... a swath of summer sliding past. I miss the droves of Red Admirals gone, now replaced by other wings. Safe journey.
Unannounced summer visitors
Checked in, without advanced reservations, without AARP discount cards
Making themselves at home
On rocks and metal sheds
T-shirts and porch cushions.
They cavorted in the afternoon driveway,
Frolicked in evening breezes,
Slept, perhaps, in peaceful pastures
And returned to their favorite vacation spots by mid morning.
Migratory stopover?
Maybe a package deal?
And for a small surcharge we can route your layover through rural Madrid, IA USA.
Some restrictions may apply.
Part
of life in a garden of quiet trust is awaiting
the weeds. “Weeds are plants where
you don’t want them” is the old gardener’s adage. So the sunflower emerging
through the stones that protect our water collection system is a weed indeed.
Why do we allow it to grow? There is something singular and irrefutable
about this plant. It doesn’t arrive with a brigade of yellow comrades. It’s
solo and confident. Its endurance survives in seeds that will be devoured by
birds or transplanted by chipmunks. Reappearance in this location is unlikely. We accept this sunny yellow
intruder. Accept it not just with an indifferent tolerant shrug of “I can live
with that.” This experience of acceptance is more honorable. More than tolerance-
respect. We attend to the sunflower asking, “How did it come to this place?
What lessons does it teach? How is God working in this golden weed?
