Friday Favourites

 

Our peonies are almost spent, but now the roses have their turn in the spotlight. Secret, Boscobel, Gertrude Jekyll, and Bolero above delight me with their colour, fragrance, and form. Both Boscobel and Bolero have slightly different colours this year than last. Bolero (bottom right) is especially different. Usually pure white, these blooms are creamy pink with some yellow. The plant is not near any other roses, so I wonder why? 

My classroom is tidy, my keys are turned in, and I'm footloose and fancy-free. Sort of. Mary Oliver captured the feeling of freedom in her poem "'Just as the Calendar Began to Say Summer". 

I went out of the schoolhouse fast

and through the gardens and to the woods

and spent all summer forgetting what I'd been taught - 

two times two, and diligence, and so forth,

and how to be modest and useful, and how to succeed 

and so forth,

machines and oil and plastic and money and so forth.

By fall I had healed somewhat, but was summoned back

to the chalky rooms and the desks, to sit and remember

the way the river kept rolling its pebbles,

the way the wild wrens sang as though they hadn't a penny

in the bank,

the way the flowers were dressed in nothing but light.

Mary Oliver

After weeks of cool temperatures and lots of rain, we're in for a bit of a warm spell and all I can say is "hooray"! I'll revel in it while it lasts. 

I collected the creamy white umbrel flowers of elderberry this week to make an Elderflower Cordial. 

The syrup is mixed with Club Soda or Tonic Water, or white wine for a refreshing drink with a floral flavour. I'm looking forward to sipping this on the patio. We finally put up the canvas gazebo and pulled out the patio furniture. It's just not been pleasant enough to sit outside until now. 

Lavender buds are opening and the bees are busy there. We're enjoying lettuce, radishes, spinach, and strawberries from the garden these days. It is all so achingly beautiful. Not an ache that goes away with Tylenol or Advil, but an ache that creates longing for something, an emotion that awakens passions, and causes us to dream about life the way it could be. It's fleeting, this ache, but oh, so memorable. Do you feel that way, too?

I think it's a reflection of the way we're made in the image of God, who is the ultimate Creator of beauty.

Feverfew. Simple and sweet, and very friendly. Little plants spring up throughout my garden. They are easy enough to pull and discard, or transplant in a blank spot in the garden. 

So the weekend begins. A weekend without a Monday schedule to anticipate. I'll definitely be outdoors while the warmth lasts, at least until Wednesday. Then, who knows?