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Back To The Garden

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We are stardust, we are golden,
We are billion year old carbon,
And we’ve got to get ourselves
back to the garden.

~ Joni Mitchell

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I know, i’ve been remiss at posting. But it’s been for good and happy reasons. It was months packed with gardening, visiting gardens, hosting a Pagan Potluck for Easter, reading, cooking, eating, drinking, berry picking, jamming, canning, beach vacationing and when i wasn’t too busy doing all that – i took some quiet time out for the Ancient Forest at Opal Creek.

Hmmm . . . so because i’ve been immersed and seeing and doing, what’s the best way to describe the last couple months of activity?

Visually! Of course . . .

In My Garden

(see the full set on Flickr)

closed mouth

Spanish Lavender & Bumblebee girl & boy hydrangea

view from the gargen 2 hearts

poppy Clematis

 



Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden

(see the full set on Flickr)

Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden 003 Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden 010

Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden 024 Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden 008

Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden 027 Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden 035


 


Holden Beach, NC

(see the full set on Flickr)

hat day rainbow umbrella

gaillardia in hand squiggly sand

snail 3 painted lady on my finger

seagull in the sky lizard

snail shell full moon on the ocean



Opal Creek Ancient Forest

(see the full set on Flickr)

so clear 1 view from the hammock 2

pile up Antique Truck at Jawbone Flats 2

woodsy ornaments hiking elf

more soon.

again.

i promise

writing

this girl

this girl

this girl figure skates in her bathtub
this girl is a repressed writer
this girl knows that a pair of shoes
can change your mind and change the world
or at least determine how far you travel.
this girl is friends with black and blue
but doesn’t need a place to sit down
or stand still, to count her bruises
and she doesn’t want her name tag
to read “wife.”
this girl will gently comb your body
examine your every shape for interpretations
in the small of your back
the length of your arms
the back of your calves
your hands.
and you will think to look for her
in dark places and she will laugh at you
standing in a shock of sunlight
eying you from under her umbrella.
and you will love her every contradiction
wish yourself underneath her coat
wonder what it’s like to be the pocket lint
riding soft alongside her hip
you will pack your razorblade suitcase
and this girl will fill the bathtub in the hotel
the room will go cold, your lips will pale
your eyes and hair go white rabbit snowshoes
and the voice of this girl will come
glass shatter blood trickle thirst
you will find yourself skating figure 8s
deep circles of infinite love
stretched taut for
this girl.

~ Andrea E. Janda