The peonies are up and bulbous, soon to bloom as the shiny black ants nibble away at their buds. The Maple tree out back near the old Locust stump has managed to save itself as it has transformed from a measly, sickly tree with sparse and tiny leaves to a full, green shelter of shade. I like to think it is happy now that we are here and that maybe that our presence has contributed to its dramatic turn around.

The new peach and pear trees have been planted, the zinnias are popping up in front of the porch as is the calendula and the half dozen sunflowers I have started in pots. Yesterday and today have both been extremely warm days, so I brought the tomato and pepper plants to the outdoors now, feeling as if the chance of frost is past or nearly so. I think they will grow stronger and faster now that they are outside.

This afternoon, in between loads of laundry I pulled my lawn chair up under the big Maple, arranged a small side table, filled a cup with coffee and took a book and my basket of crochet outside. I have begun a new project in greens and am nearly finished reading ‘Zen and The Art of Knitting’ by Bernadette Murphy, a gift from a good friend. It isn’t a big book, in fact just the opposite. It would be a rather quick read except for the fact it isn’t that kind of book. I realized when I began reading it, it was the kind of book that one reads in small increments, savoring the wisdom and philosophical stories a little at a time. I have enjoyed it thoroughly and highly recommend it.

As I sat with my crochet today, thinking on the trees and their significance the tears welled up and my heart ached. The landowner informed us yesterday that the old giant Black Walnut that sits in the ravine behind the house will be taken down. I understood the need to remove the smaller Walnuts close to the house. Their acidic nature is poisonous to other plant life such as the fruit trees and vegetables. But the Granddaddy tree is far from the yard and his absence will create not only an empty spot in the ravine, (and my heart) but take away the only old growth in the wooded area not to mention a generous amount of oxygen production. The fact that he is a living thing and there is no real need for his removal is tough to swallow. He is huge, the size of three trees, the kind of tree you could build a real tree house in. The thought of this grand trees absence causes my heart to ache but I have little right to oppose the landowner. However I cannot help feel sad at the prospect of destroying what seems sacred. Perhaps intentions may change.

Today started out with a power outage, resulting in my inability to shower, wash dishes, do laundry, in fact do little else but crochet. It has been one of those days when I have felt more philosophical than ambitious…a day that has been slow, quiet and given me the opportunity to consider the sacredness in everything. Unexpected occurrences (like a power outage) that are beyond ones control are often opportunities, allowing one to shift gears and make of it what you will.