1288. Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!!! We did it…

‘tis almost mid-autumn and the last day of this month!
And as of today we’ve set a record here for having
the warmest October ever! The wind yet blows from
the south so I’m still wearing tank tops and shorts!
Yay! Yippie! Hooray! NOT!!! Where oh where
is our cool autumn for goodness sakes!

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O wind, rend open the heat,
cut apart the heat,
rend it to tatters.
Fruit cannot drop
through this thick air–
fruit cannot fall into heat
that presses up and blunts
the points of pears
and rounds the grapes.
Cut the heat–
plough through it,
turning it on either side
of your path.
~Hilda Doolittle

And when the south wind blows, you say, ‘It’s going to be hot,’ and it is. ~Luke 12:55  ✝

1206. Pluviophile (n) a lover or rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days.

Okay for those who sang “rain, rain go away; come again another day,” I’m here to say that the time for the “other day” has come. The need is HERE; the need is NOW; the need is RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE! For it is and has been hot, hot, hot and getting hotter; and the ground is dry, dry, dry and getting dryer by the day. So come, come lovely gray clouds filled with wetness for there’s plenty of room above us since there are and have been for months nothing but vast, empty expanses of blue overhead. Come and fall; fall, fall, fall luscious, life-giving rains-cooling, refreshing, drenching, dancing, rains! You are welcome here, oh so welcome here! I can and will try to do a rain dance if that would help, but perhaps you will consider this poem below enough of an invitation to come back to our piece of the prairie instead.

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From the Diary of A Pluviophile
It’s raining.
Every green is young
Every flower is resplendent
Every cloud is impregnated.
With the sky kneeling down
In the horizon.
Smelling the earth.
As the drops coming down
Making the presence of God
Palpable in the beauty.
I wish I could fall with the falling
In ecstasy of loving
The drenched ethereal lilt.
It’s raining.
~Jacob McGee

He (God) provides rain for the earth; he sends water on the countryside. ~Job 5:10  ✝

**Image found on Pinterest

1161. What a lovely thing a rose is! ~Arthur Conan Doyle

The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
~John Boyle O’Reilly

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Oh!
Whoa! Look
At that amazing beauty!
Wow and wow again, I declare!
Who is that dark and sultry one I see?
She’s the Queen of Hearts they say, and she
Is said to be a dusky and sensually red rose who
Masquerades not as dark and pink magenta red but
One who’s shadowy with smoldering black overtones.
La Dame de Coeur is her real name and verily she’s the
“Ooh la la” hybrid daughter of two other “femme fatales”
Of great acclaim and renown, Peace and Independence.
Not only a stunning and truly red rose is she, but also
Freely does she bear large, double, fragrant flowers
This queen who begins life in hot and fiery hues
And then ages from scarlet to regal crimson
Over leaves which are ever so green.
~Natalie Scarberry

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There is simply the rose; it is perfect
in every moment of its existence.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Then our sons in their youth will be like well-nurtured plants, and our daughters will be like pillars carved to adorn a palace. ~Psalm 144:12  ✝

**I’ve eyed this rose in the Antique Rose Emporium catalog for years and finally decided to buy one this spring and I’m in love with her. She’s actually an even prettier red than these photos show. Red just never appears to be as pretty in digital photos for some reason.

1160. Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment. ~Ellis Peters

If you’ve never been thrilled
to the very edges of your soul
by a flower in spring bloom, maybe
your soul has never been in bloom.
~Audra Foveo

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Come as they do in May are
the sweet morning-glory morns
that herald brilliant daylily days
with rosy high noons and
the busiest of busy bee hours
on the hosts of purple coneflowers.
And all the while the butterflies
waltz by the big, yellow sunflowers that
wilt not on the hot, sultry afternoons
when often I find grasshoppers perched
atop the strangest of flowery places.
But come dusk when the day is almost done
all these must relinquish the stage to the
pearly iridescent glow of white moonflowers
unfurling ‘neath heaven’s twinkling stars.
‘Tis all this that a gardener’s hope-filled
dreams and schemes are made of.
~Natalie Scarberry

Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits. ~Psalm 103:2  ✝

**Flower images taken by me; collage created by me too.

1071. Mother Nature is a son-of-a-gun. ~Murphy’s Tenth Law

Nature reserves the right to inflict upon
her children the most terrifying jests.
~Thornton Wilder

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Winter? What winter? Did we have winter? We did? I do seem to remember some gray, gloomy and very short days as well as a few times when the temperature fell below freezing, barely, and the leaves fell off the trees. But was that it? That’s all we’re gonna get? No blue northers? No snow? No sleet? No ice? No fog? No rain? Nada, zip, zilch! Or is it gonna be like what’s happened sometimes before, Mother Nature? You’re gonna let everything get started in the garden and then wham bam! You’re gonna hit us hard with a late and bitter blast of winter’s fury that will nip everything in the bud as it has before. Or maybe, you’re just gonna let us move right along into an early spring and then onto a very, very long hot summer, one that’s so especially wretched that it redefines what a  long, hot summer truly is? Is that it? Oh fickle, fickle Mother Nature, what a beastly shrew you can be from time to time! Okay, okay, I know it’s not nice to mess with Mother Nature or say bad things about her. So perhaps I ought to strive to see the error of my fractious ways once again and just be grateful for the exquisite beauty above and below that started blooming in my yard today.

So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. ~Romans 7:21  ✝

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891. Divinity . . . is like a wheel, a circle, a whole, that can neither be understood, nor divided, nor begun nor ended . . . no one has the power to divide this circle, to surpass it, or to limit it. ~St. Hildegard von Bingen  

In the morning the blue heron is busy
stepping, slowly, around the edge of the
pond. He is tall and shining. His wings, folded
against his body, fit so neatly they
make of him, when he lifts his shoulders and begins to rise
into the air, a great surprise. Also
he carries so light the terrible sword-beak.
Then he is gone over the trees.

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I am so happy to be alive in this world
I would like to live forever, but I am
content not to. Seeing what I have seen
has filled me; believing what I believe
has filled me.

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The first words of this page are
hardly thought of when the bird
circles back over the trees; it floats down
like an armful of blue flowers, a bundle of light
coming to refresh itself again in the black water, and I think:
maybe it is or it isn’t the same bird-maybe it’s
the first one’s child, or the child of its child.
What I mean is, our deliverance from Time
and the continuance, if we only steward them well,
of earthly things. So maybe it’s myself still standing here, or
someone else, like myself hot with the joy of this world, and
filled with praise.
~Circles, a poem by Mary Oliver

Remember to extol His work, which people have praised in song. ~Job 36:24  ✝

**Images via Pinterest

636. Painters use red like spice. ~Derek Jarman


Has anybody grown curiouser and curiouser about what’s been up with all the red posts as of late.  Well, since February is the month in which we celebrate Valentine’s Day, I thought it might be fun to take a look first at all the shades, meanings, and associations that go along with the color red. And then afterwards launch into the passionate side of the color and the subject of “love, love, love – dut, dudda, da – all you need is love, love, love – dut, dudda, da…” So after this one tonight, get ready for some “luv.”
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Red can be the color of a rising dawn as it glides
across morning skies and through misty white clouds.
It’s fierceness is felt when the hot summer sun
reddens the body with its feverish intensity.
Red is the thorn that pricks the fingers,
But it’s also the rose whose aroma is sweet.
~Edited lines by Sunny Summers
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Red

Fire-cracker, fire-engine
Fire-flicker red –
Red runs through your head
When you’re angry-est.
Red is a big rubber ball.
Red is the giant-est
Colour of all.
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Red is rosy cheeks and lipstick,
Red is a signal; red is a shout,
Ever so loudly it says, “Watch out!”
Red is a show-off,
No doubt about it –
But can you imagine
Living without it?
~Edited verses by Mary O’Neill
These are the offerings (for my Tabernacle) you are to receive from them: …scarlet yarn…ram skins dyed red…spices for the anointing oil and for the fragrant incense… ~Excerpted lines from Exodus 25:3-6 ✝
**Images via Pinterest; collages created by Natalie