This comment is coming to you late but perhaps all the more with thanks for warming me here is days and days of heavy fog. And though I do like fog for its playfulness, I needed the warming of your musings of lemon, rosemary and resting hummers. Very fine in deed!
Such a pleasant pair of poems to take in via audio. Once, many moons ago, a ruby throated hummer found its way into my kitchen from the open back door. As I went to guide it out again, it lit, momentarily, on my finger. It was so light I might've never noticed, had I not seen it happen. Here on the east coast, we have just the one species and only from spring to fall, but they are always a delight!
As for the rosemary, honey and all, I can only grow it well in pots due to my moisture-prone soils. It does not grow with abandon, but it does manage. And, while I think I would LOVE the flavor of rosemary honey, I would feel a bit sorry for any bees relegated to harvest from just the one kind of flower!
Thanks for giving me a launchpad for memories and ideas. 💚
Oh my goodness, Elizabeth, a hummer perched on your finger! What a treasure of a memory that is; so glad you got to experience it (and guide your visitor back outdoors), and so glad you shared it here!
I'm coming to understand that it's wet roots that rosemary pouts over, rather than pots as such. All the best to your rosemary living the best container life it can, and thanks for reading.
I love the rosemary poem but then to read why you have an affinity to it...!!!! I love it even more. What a great comparison, written in an edgy style that perhaps also mimics the edgy poet in you.
Oooo, edgy! I've never been called that before, and it's making me smile ear to ear. Grateful to you for reading, Donna -- and for acknowledging the story behind my rosemary affinity. I did feel a little edgy sharing that.
Listening to you read it, a pleasure, other things pop out- this part especially
"daunted by nothing really except the sides of a container,
its hardy roots inclined to sulk and wither when
they find themselves confined."
Which is so like us peoples. I love anthropomorphism even though all creature suffer when compared to us because they are first class and we are, often, not.
Other creatures get cheerfully on with being themselves, where we keep trying to be someone/something else -- which every now and then is an improvement, but mostly, often, not.
That's so terrific. Te whole rosemary poem is really a killer, completely successful. when you do get that honey I hope you'll do a companion poem about it. I already have a name for the poem you haven't yet written, it's called Rosemary's Honey. (I know, it's stupid.). thanks for all that great stuff.
This comment is coming to you late but perhaps all the more with thanks for warming me here is days and days of heavy fog. And though I do like fog for its playfulness, I needed the warming of your musings of lemon, rosemary and resting hummers. Very fine in deed!
A belated thanks for your belated comment! So glad the summer poems could help to warm you up in foggy weather, Sandy!
Made me think of This Lime-tree Bower my Prison by Samuel Taylor Coleridge 🌳
"...Pale beneath the blaze
Hung the transparent foliage; and I watch'd
Some broad and sunny leaf, and lov'd to see
The shadow of the leaf and stem above
Dappling its sunshine!..."
Thanks so much for reading, Frances, and for sending me off to read some Coleridge.
Such a pleasant pair of poems to take in via audio. Once, many moons ago, a ruby throated hummer found its way into my kitchen from the open back door. As I went to guide it out again, it lit, momentarily, on my finger. It was so light I might've never noticed, had I not seen it happen. Here on the east coast, we have just the one species and only from spring to fall, but they are always a delight!
As for the rosemary, honey and all, I can only grow it well in pots due to my moisture-prone soils. It does not grow with abandon, but it does manage. And, while I think I would LOVE the flavor of rosemary honey, I would feel a bit sorry for any bees relegated to harvest from just the one kind of flower!
Thanks for giving me a launchpad for memories and ideas. 💚
Oh my goodness, Elizabeth, a hummer perched on your finger! What a treasure of a memory that is; so glad you got to experience it (and guide your visitor back outdoors), and so glad you shared it here!
I'm coming to understand that it's wet roots that rosemary pouts over, rather than pots as such. All the best to your rosemary living the best container life it can, and thanks for reading.
I have a hunch that wild creatures can feel and enjoy our human attention (Love). I think that hummingbird was basking in yours.💚
What a lovely thought, Ann. I hope he was. 💚
I love the rosemary poem but then to read why you have an affinity to it...!!!! I love it even more. What a great comparison, written in an edgy style that perhaps also mimics the edgy poet in you.
Oooo, edgy! I've never been called that before, and it's making me smile ear to ear. Grateful to you for reading, Donna -- and for acknowledging the story behind my rosemary affinity. I did feel a little edgy sharing that.
Go rock that edginess!
Two wonderful poems, rich in presence... And what could be better than hummingbirds and rosemary? ;-)
P.S. I do love to cook with rosemary and can only imagine how wonderful rosemary honey must be.
I would so love to taste that honey ... ! 🌿
Thank you for reading, Amy -- so glad you liked the poems.
June to September have these glorious days of which you write in Oregon.
Otherwise, not so much!
Who doesn’t leave us in our backyard are the delightful Rufus hummingbirds!
We keep our feeders full for them when the salvia blossoms fade.
Looocinda, friend of hummingbirds! I could have guessed. ❤️
Our eyes miss so much. Maybe our nose is a better guide. Enjoyed your poems.
Nose, ears, our sense of wonder ... we fill in around what our eyes don't catch. Thanks so much for reading, jm!
It can be one of the changeover days in March.
We must live near one another...
I walked 7 miles in the rain today, along the seashore at Crystal Cove.
And I enjoy the same flora and fauna in my own back garden. Perhaps we should form a writer's group!
kimnelsonart@gmail.com ... in case you're interested!
I'm some way north of you, Kim, but definitely on the same coast! ❤️
Ok, now I want to see a hummingbird while eating a biscuit with rosemary honey.
Auntie B
I know just the place! It's a short walk from Vera Grace's house, we can go there in the spring.
Hummingbirds are a delight to watch and you brought that to life beautifully.
Thank you, Joan! Such lovely and intense little birds -- it was delightful to see one actually relax for a minute or two.
Listening to you read it, a pleasure, other things pop out- this part especially
"daunted by nothing really except the sides of a container,
its hardy roots inclined to sulk and wither when
they find themselves confined."
Which is so like us peoples. I love anthropomorphism even though all creature suffer when compared to us because they are first class and we are, often, not.
Other creatures get cheerfully on with being themselves, where we keep trying to be someone/something else -- which every now and then is an improvement, but mostly, often, not.
I agree, 100%
That hummingbird poem was so charming.
"the operatic volume
of that scent"
That's so terrific. Te whole rosemary poem is really a killer, completely successful. when you do get that honey I hope you'll do a companion poem about it. I already have a name for the poem you haven't yet written, it's called Rosemary's Honey. (I know, it's stupid.). thanks for all that great stuff.
Wouldn't that honey be a mouthful, though? Thank you for such an appreciative reading, Weston.
Even the introduction has a memorable phrase: “The change of seasons is less an edict than a long conversation”
I reveled in both these poems: Magnifico!
Changed my mind and going to accept the rosemary offered from our church garden.
Thanks so much, Shari. 🌿