Things Worthy Of Worship

Sorry that picture's so dark but when I took it, it had just rained and the sky was gray and what I was trying to show was how full the camellia bushes are with flowers and flowers-to-be. It's almost like they're trying to make up for their late blooming. 
"Hurry, hurry!" I can hear them say. "We have to get this done before it gets hot! Come on team! Give it your all! We can do this!"

I thought we were going to get rain on and off all day. I was hoping for that. We can't seem to catch up and the garden needs a good soaking, not to mention all the other plants and trees. It was raining when I woke up around six this morning (which is not when I got up, of course) and it rained until about ten-thirty, I think, but it wasn't much in the way of quantity, according to my ever-trusty rain gauge which is the garden cart. The weather widget on the phone said it would begin raining again around two and I believed it. I put the four ferns that hang on the front porch but which have been here on the back porch since the hard freezes we had, out on the back steps to get a good shower of sweet rain water. 
And there they sit, dry as they were when I put them out.

But look at this.

That's what my favorite camellias looked like when I took their picture right after it quit raining. Again, I am a bit astounded at the iPhone's capability. 
I am hoping that the photo will slake the thirst for spring that all of you who are still surrounded by cold and snow are feeling. At least a little bit. 

After I realized the odds of it raining again were pretty slim, I decided to do some yard work. I noticed yesterday on my front-yard survey that there were many downed branches and limbs as a result of all the strong, breezy, sometimes downright windy days we've been having. So I emptied out the pitiful bit of water from the garden cart and started in on picking up what the wind had pruned for us and that of course led to me pulling up various thorn vines including dewberries which grow like crazy in this yard but never make fruit because there's not enough sun. There are also at least ten different invasive species but I wasn't really concentrating on those today. I didn't have my trowel or the old canning kettle I use to throw my weeds in and yet I had to pull a few things and found myself on my knees, pulling things by hand. The area around the magnificent live oak in the front yard is one big nursery for invasive plants and I did want to get some of that pulled up and picked up, along with all the tiny twigs and larger downed detritus. I wish I could give you a scale of how big around this beautiful old tree is. 

That's looking up from my height and although it doesn't really accurately represent the girth or the height of the tree, here's a picture of my hand on the thick bark of the right side there.

Blurry. Sorry. 
Unfortunately, the tree is being tormented by more vines, some of them as big around as my wrist. I spent some time trying to pull what I could but it felt rather pointless. 

This dead branch, caught up in a tangle of smaller vines, is driving me crazy. 

The idea of bringing it down has become an almost inappropriate compulsion. It's too high for me to grab and although I can get hold of some of the vines it's entangled in, they're stronger than I am and the branch remains where it is, taunting me. I am going to get some help with this project and that's all there is to it. I feel like this ancient tree has every right to live as long as it possibly can and those vines will eventually choke it to death. Even if I do nothing to help it, it will no doubt outlive me, but wouldn't it be wonderful if it could live long enough for my great-grandchildren to look at and be astounded? And their children too? 
These trees can live to be five hundred years old. I would not be surprised to discover that this one is at least three hundred years old. It is a living, silent witness and testament to the passage of time, the history of this place, drawing life up from its roots, giving life in its branches to an entire ecosystem of fungi, ferns, mosses, insects, birds, squirrels, and probably microbes I know nothing about. 
I really do see this tree and all the other ancient oaks as sacred beings, or at least sacred in the way I would define it. 

Tomorrow I believe I am going to get to work on clearing out some of the plants from around it. I know I worked on that project last year some but did not make much progress. I remember specifically digging and pulling the plants which do not please me or promote any sort of native life as far as I can tell, listening to a Mormon Stories podcast wherein a woman, a devout polygamy denier, gave her rhymes and reasons for absolutely knowing in her soul that Joseph Smith would never, ever, have had sex with a fourteen year old girl whom he claimed that his god had commanded him to take as a wife. 
Some things never change. 

Worship trees, not people. That's my feeling about it. 

The sun has set but there's still enough light to see blue in the highest part of the sky. Puffy clouds that look not unlike my dumplings are slowly, slowly moving past. So slowly that you almost can't see their movement. The birds have sung their last evening songs, the trees against the western sky's last rosy light are a stark black relief of shapes and angles. It's so beautiful. I am so grateful to live here with these trees, this sky, this life. It has been such a privilege to live here in this house, in this spot for twenty-three years. And I never, ever forget that or take it for granted. 

I have talked to Mr. Moon twice today. Once from a pond where he was fishing off a dock and once from the enormous sports center or whatever it's called where his great-niece is playing volleyball in national tournaments. There are literally thousands of girls there. Glen tells me how huge the tournament venue is and my mind will just not receive and hold that information. 
How in the world did he and I decide we'd match up just fine in marriage? 
I have no idea but I'm glad we did. 

Clean sheets. Myself-made martini. Leftover risotto from last night for my supper. And yes. It is so good. I forgot the asparagus but it does have four types of greens in it along with onions and garlic and fresh tomatoes and sun-dried tomatoes and a little bit of parmesan and a little bit of feta. Which is plenty good enough. 

Happy Friday, ya'll. 

Love...Ms. Moon