Slow down, you move too fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feeling groovy
Ba da da da da da da, feeling groovy
Hello lamppost, what’cha knowing
I’ve come to watch your flowers growin’
Ain’t cha got no rhymes for me?
Doo-it in doo doo, feeling groovy
Ba da da da da da da, feeling groovy
I got no deeds to do
No promises to keep
I’m dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me
Life I love you, all is groovy
(59th Street Bridge Song, Simon and Garfunkel)
I’ve been plagued by earworms lately, and this is the one that was going through my head this morning as Ruby and I walked the sun up this morning. Frankly, it beats the heck out of the one I was suffering from yesterday, which was the title number from “Guys and Dolls.”
We arrived at the conservation area well before dawn. The moon was high, and just the slightest tinge of pink was showing at the eastern horizon. We had only gone a quarter of a mile when I saw something gleaming in the grassy verge by the path. I picked it up, and discovered that it was an owl wing feather. Beautiful.
A little scenario played itself out in my mind as I visualized the rabbit sitting near the wood’s edge, enjoying its evening repast; the stoop, the grab that doesn’t quite hit its mark allowing the rabbit to kick out and dislodge the feather as the owl bore it away for its dinner.
I mused on this idly as I continued my walk, and as I rounded the next corner I saw the owl, sitting in the top of the dead tree from where she likes to hunt. I stopped short, told Ruby to sit, and we watched her survey the field. Then she called, low hooting answered by a higher gabble of a juvenile owl from the deeper woods. It seems that there have been hunting lessons going on. I thought perhaps it was her youngster that missed the mark. But no, she turned and saw me watching her, and as she gracefully left her perch to join the other owl in the deeper woods, I could see the gap in her wing feathers where the feather in my hand had been lost.
The other feathers in the arrangement are from a blue jay and a heron, also collected during dog walks in the past couple of weeks. I came across the luna moth wings a couple of days ago, also while walking Ruby. I searched for the lower pair of wings, but I suspect that a bat was the demise of this moth and the lower wings were consumed along with the thorax, while the larger upper wings flew off when the bat captured the moth. The other butterfly wing came from Bennett Spring the day I collected the thousands of tiny ticks..
I love that last image, the super close-up of the eye on the luna moth wing.
There seem to be other eyes looking about the place today.
Not eyes, but beautiful this morning — lichens on my teak bench and society garlic sporting dew jewels.
The labyrinth was rather special this morning. It needs to be mowed, of course, but it is bedizened with surprise lilies today.
This just proves that you can really neglect the bulbs of this plant. I wanted them in the labyrinth, and three years ago dug a big cluster that was crowding out my chives. Then I left them in a bucket for about five weeks because I got distracted by something or other and just never got back to them. When I finally planted them, I realized that I might have been expending all that effort for nothing. The following year I was sure I had wasted that energy, as there were no lilies at all. But surprise, surprise! They just had to recoup their losses, and now they are gorgeous.
I went off to the opthalmologist yesterday in search of answers about my sudden abundance of floaters and the meteoric flashes I experienced Thursday, and was once again reminded of the passage of years. What a little cutie pie he was — not a bit older than my son. And he called me Ma’am, an address which is the kiss of death to feeling youthful.
He dilated my eyes and made an extremely thorough examination, and he had good news for me. All those floaters are really in there, not a figment of my imagination. Since I described the way my floaters looked in terms of looking at pond water full of bacteria, protozoans and algae, he chose not to talk down to me when discussing my condition. My retina is firmly attached all round in both eyes, and there are no bulges indicating that fluid has accumulated behind it. I do have pavement degeneration, which seemed to please him since he doesn’t get to see it all that often and I guess it is interesting. (I looked that up when I got home, and it is not really a big deal, just one of those things that goes along with becoming “Ma’am” and noticing that one’s perky boobs have obeyed the Law of Gravity and have descended waistward.)
I was sent home with a new spectacle prescription which will probably make my left eye stop feeling so tired, and instructions to come back for a re-check in 6 months. The only caveat was if I see flashes that look like camera flashes, or something “draping across my vision that won’t go away.” I guess meteor streaks are not such a big deal, it’s camera flashes you have to worry about. “Don’t worry, be happy,” were his last words to me as I left his office. (Thank goodness that didn’t become my next earworm!)
And so I returned home, feeling groovy and in love with life. Just like the song. Which is probably why I’ve been hearing it today.