A Summer Week

Not much going on this week, except everyday life! We're having our usual large number of summer visitors: the hermitages are packed all the time and sisters' families from out of town are stopping by as part of their annual visit to Erie. The Art House started its 5-week summer session Monday, our deer are seen every day now, our kitchen manager and staff are starting to get lots of local fruit with the comment that the produce are early this year because of our mild April and May, and, finally, our courtyards and other garden areas continue their continuous blooming--and they are just beautiful.

Here's Mary on this first day of July:

Luke

I had a dog
who loved flowers.
Briskly she went
through the fields,

yet paused
for the honeysuckle
or the rose,
her dark head

and her wet nose
touching
the face
of every one

with its petals
of silk,
with its fragrance
rising

into the air
where the bees,
their bodies
heavy with pollen,

hovered--
and easily
she adored
every blossom,

not in the serious
careful way
that we choose
this blossom or that blossom--

the way we praise or don't praise--
the way we love
or don't love--
but the way

we long to be--
that happy
in the heaven of earth--
that wild, that loving.

This is an everyday green plant that we pass 1,000 times a year on the way in our side door. But for this week it produces a really pretty flower--but if you're not paying attention all you'll see is the plain old green bush.