to my feet and a light to my path. Ps. 119:105 NKJV
Beauties they are
with orange-tipped, translucent wings
spanning to three inches.
Stout bodied with concentric stripes
they belt their songs
and an audible trill pierces
the summer night and day.
A thousand small engines
Two or more falter
dropping to the ground
while others drone on
in an unrelenting cadence
east of the Mississippi River.
More than a decade long life cycle
live merely weeks.
Spending most of their time
they burrow into soil
feeding on deciduous tree roots
inhabiting meadows, forests and prairies.
At 13, or 17 years, ripened
the nymphs crawl to an upright support
split their skin and climb
fulfilling their destiny as cicadas.
(c) June 8, 2015 Gabrielle Songe
All Rights Reserved.
Found text: National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Insects & Spiders
and reach out for the things ahead of me. Phil. 3:13b CEB
Past starts, sputters and screeching halts are of no consequence because the momentum and joy of writing, photographing drawings and preparing a “thin read” is propelling me forward. Just as the insect gathers nectar my solar-plexus pulls me inward hungry to express the gifts so graciously bestowed.
How manifold are Your works! In wisdom You have made them all. Psalms 104:24 a NKJ
In Your presence is fullness of joy;
At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore. Ps. 16:11
planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season Ps. 1:3 NKJV
on our new farm
The Brahma Sonny and 12 year old heifer Holly have been extraordinarily lovey-dovey of late. It must be spring!
Palomino paint Jack has moved to a space adjoining Buff, the Charolais-Angus bull who has been spending time up against their shared fence.
Sweetest of all, chestnut Bebe, whose leg was injured the end of April, is nearly healed. She began prancing about as her grain was served yesterday. New tissue has filled the gouge and a sulfur-oil antifungal crème is being applied to complete the repair. Soon her bandage will be reduced to expose the edges of her wound to the air.
Tiger stripe kittens Ty and Mimi turned one year the end of May and both are solicitous of affection just like their mother Nikki. Tab, Alma, Gordy—orange tabbies—and sister Audrey enjoyed their first anniversary the beginning of June.
The only long hair in the group, Gordy, goes everywhere including the kitchen counter despite my admonitions. He is quick, whether leaping in the air on fly-catching missions or escaping capture jumping from the loft to the living room below.
When storms arrive, which have been occurring frequently, Peek, an all-American canine, panics. So she, and another canine Sam, and 17 year old feline Patches join me in the living room where we watch through the glass door tree branches sway and listen to the rain and sometimes hail spitter-spat on the metal roof.
Watching nature’s showy display with some trepidation we see lightning strikes and hear the thunder on its heels.
By grace we are settling into our new home.
following the storm
A local farmer and friend came through for me yesterday loaning me the mower he salvaged from three push mowers. My friend has a pet peeve. He told me it infuriates him when people move out from the city and cut their grass down to the nub.
This is a farming community not town where neighbors compete for the best looking yard, he said. So he set the mower a bit high off the ground.
This was OK by me since it was better to cut the tall grass, which it did. He also sharpened the blade to get the most obtrusive weeds, which it did.
Afterward I looked around and felt gratified. Perfect it was not since the rough edges remained. Yet perfect it was in the sense that it is part of nature.
My brother reminded me yesterday that all is not supplication or even listening and following what is heard. There is fellowship, fellowship with God.
In nature there is a heightened awareness of the Divine and always fellowship.
over the Charolais-Angus bull’s space
with it near 40 degrees
Today I began picking up debris left through the years by previous tenants. There were rusty tin cans, plastic containers and wrap, beer cans and bottles. Yet most ominous were the shards of glass, pieces of canning jars with jagged edges sticking up out of the dirt that could cut a hoof or worse.
In all I retrieved three feed bags full of garbage cleared from less than an acre of the back five where my large pals will be. Already I can see this is going to be a project.
or was it
In the morning there was just a hint of its arrival. Scarce, icy droplets glanced off and melted before hitting the ground.
By mid-day the drops turned to flakes floating through the air, and amateur forecasters said there would be no accumulation.
As the temperature dropped one layer carpeted, then two. Well after dusk it was still falling.