I don’t have any tattoos and I don’t believe I’ll ever get one, but if I did, I might choose this Sanskrit symbol.
Instead of a tattoo, maybe I’ll frame it and hang on a wall somewhere where I can be reminded to breathe, especially since I’m aware that I hold my breath a lot, almost as if I’m anticipating something dreadful to occur.
Breathe.
Sometimes that’s enough.
**This is so strange. I only published this post today, June 26, but it shows that it was published on the 24th, so I am RE-writing and posting again. Very odd WordPress, very odd.
We had a bit of rain, just a few drops, definitely not the kind of rain we need here in the Southwest, but I think my veggie garden was grateful for it.
When I went outside to check on the status of baby lettuce seedlings, I noticed a Monarch butterfly entangled in the netting surrounding the garden. I’ve been forced to use the barrier to keep out squirrels and rats and bunnies. There are plenty of other things in the garden those guys can eat, so I don’t feel too bad about restricting them from my yummy greens.
Carefully, I removed the netting from those delicate wings.
After flying off, s/he returned with a mate and they circled my head a few times as if to thank me. “You’re welcome, guys! I was glad to help.”
Later that afternoon, right before dusk, I went for a walk. There were still beautiful clouds in the sky and I was thinking happy thoughts about the butterflies.
Suddenly, before I could even react, several things happened at once. A white van was driving down the street faster than the twenty-five mile an hour speed limit. A dove flew low across the street, left to right. (Yup, you can see where this is going.) The driver MUST have seen the bird, I’m sure of it.
Without slowing down or trying to avoid the imminent impact, the van ran into the bird, and to make it even more horrific, the back tires finished the slaughter. There were no other cars on the road; simply slowing down would have avoided it completely.
It doesn’t matter to me that there was nothing I could have done to prevent this tragedy. I ran out into the street to see if I needed to take the bird to a vet, but it was too late. Too late. I crouched down on my knees over the little dove almost in shock at the massive destruction the van did to his body. I took a photo because I wanted to remember the poor dear and honor his/her life, but it’s too gruesome to post and I feel it would be disrespectful to the innocent creature.
The bird was probably on his way home, and there might have been nesting babies that won’t be fed and won’t survive all because of the actions of one unaware or uncaring human. What if it was one of the doves I just wrote about that often visit me in the garden? How incredibly sad.
Well, that stripped me of the joy of saving a butterfly, that’s for sure. I’m a fixer and a helper. It’s a tough lesson for me to comprehend that sometimes things can be so terribly damaged that they can’t be mended or put back together, like this poor little bird who was beyond repair.
This made me think of Prince. When doves cry, so do I.
One photo from my camera, one from my phone.
No strawberry pink for me, but a bit of reflected color on this one; lots of positive moon energy.
This was from my front door. I might print and frame it because it looks like a painting to me.
This Odessa Calla Lily (Zantedeschia rehmannii violacea) is dark as a moonless night. In shade, the deep purple bloom is nearly black. Today, sunshine illuminates the royal purple curve of the petals. It’s one of my favorite flowers, especially since it thrives in the hot summer sun of rain-deprived SoCal.
These two very friendly lizards hope you all have a great Wednesday!
I walked by the location of that big fire a few months ago (https://enchantedseashells.com/2021/01/20/fire-in-carlsbad/)
It no longer smells like charred wood, but the twisted and tangled bones of this burned tree is an ever constant reminder.
This elusive Scott’s Oriole has been taunting me for years, sitting in one spot for great lengths of time ONLY when I don’t have a camera near me, and when I do, he flits around like a hummingbird.
This time I was able to capture his beauty for a single brief moment, his yellow vibrant against the green screen of a Giant Bird of Paradise.
What a beautiful profile of a beautiful boy!
I have never been able to successfully grow a dogwood; too bad because they are magnificent, but someone else has done really well with them.
I don’t know what it is, but it’s so green and evocative of spring. I think it’s Miner’s Lettuce, but I’m not 100% sure.
I have NEVER seen a color like the blue of this ceanothus. It’s a deep intense pure purpleblue, an amazing gigantic specimen.
Ceanothus has many ethnobotanical uses. Native Americans would mix the flowers with water to create a soapy detergent. It really works! Roots and leaves have reputed medicinal properties, and the long, flexible stems of some species are used in basket-making. The common name for Ceanothus americanus, a species from the eastern United States, is New Jersey Tea, which refers to its use during the Revolutionary War as a substitute for traditional British tea.
The camera definitely doesn’t capture the saturation of color. It’s full of the sound of buzzing BEES.
#WordlessWednesday
I used to be terrified of bees mainly because I’m allergic — which is certainly a plausible rationale for fear, but I have so many bees here at Casa de Enchanted Seashells–they love rosemary and lavender and other herbs, that I’ve decided to quell my anxiety and bee friendly.
Bees are incredibly valuable to sustaining life on Earth; they deserve our love and protection, along with a healthy respect for their ability to cause pain. Angel Boy 2.0 and I spend quite a bit of time researching bees.
This little guy took a rest on the deck from his hard work saving Planet Earth and was perfectly amenable to pose for a series of photos and then he buzzed away. More flowers, more pollen, more honey!
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 