it was a magnificent day, 24 degrees. sunny. fog lifting off the lake. we gave edgar a bath and i walked him in the sun to dry. tom cut the lawn. and i took the stepladder into the front garden and washed the windows. and while i was working on the windows of my little front porch, i realized how i missed sitting in here in the early morning sun with coffee. or with the evening sun and a glass of wine. and a book or my blog. a few years ago it stopped being a room and just become a place to walk through to get in the house. with messy recycling by the door and cobwebs and garden dirt. so, i swept and washed and threw away the wicker chairs with the seats broken through (i didn't really throw them away, but they went to the basement) and brought in my favorite white metal chairs. i washed the glass. and swept and washed the floor. i found places for what shouldn't be in the front porch/sun room. and set up a little table to hold a drink. jars and buckets of beach glass and shells. faded lavender hanging in the window. garage sale paintings i love stacked against the wall. a few piles of books..... just in time for my birthday tomorrow. i will have my first coffee as a 45 year old, sitting in my lovely little sunny nook.

i'm leaving puddles everywhere i go. i walked back up to the house from the little beach carrying my shoes, with my skirt sticking to my legs. and a little bucket of glass from sitting in the waves and sifting through the pebbles for the last half an hour. what a lovely end to a hot july day. i don't start out sitting in the lake, but it always seems that after a few minutes that's exactly where i am. and i have such beautiful little treasures to show for it. i photographed a dry pile of glass from the other day beside today's fresh pile that is still wet from the lake.and my garden has blossomed in it's own wild and beautiful way along the front of the house. roses and hollyhocks and sweetpeas and lavender against limestone. lots of photos to choose from.

the air was heady with spring scents today. all the cool rain has kept the scents damp and dull. but this afternoon it was suddenly hot and muggy and the air was crowded with lilac and apple blossom and crabapple flavors, all sweet and mingling so i couldn't tell them apart. the flowers aren't opened yet, but tight little lavender or red or pink layers of petals like tiny tight fists. we walked around the block, edgar and i, just as we'd done this morning. but by our evening walk, our little world had changed. and we breathed it in.

i want the green to race it's way towards me. i want the scent of spring. i want the fresh spicy smell of wet earth and fresh green light. i want my heart to race with it's sharp dream of summer. i want the blur of it. i want the slam of screen doors. i want the tickle of cut grass in my throat. i want the jungle of my front garden, spicy with lavender. i want open windows and leaves shivering on the trees. i want the scent of the lake drifting through the yard mixing with barbecue and sunscreen. i want the sound of my husband's guitar drifting from the porch. i want the squeak of the porchswing and the squeal of children. i want to wander without shoes for weeks. i want the snap of sheets on the line and the smell of sun cooked into cotton. and mostly i want the heat of the sun and the cool of the lake as i sift through pebbles at our little piece of beach bringing home buckets of the smooth and mysterious beach glass.

winter garden

the garden calls to me in the winter with a full deep voice. sultry. seducing me. making me twirl with desire. so that i am desperate to feel warm earth under my nails. and when may warms my skin, i dig and rake and trim and haul. and then rarely touch the garden after the june lavender harvest. until february leaves me spinning and frantic to garden again.