John Burroughs wrote:

"The lure of the distant and difficult is deceptive. The great opportunity is where you are."

I don't have a summary explanation of who John Burroughs is but a quick search brings up the fact that he was a naturalist with a great bushy beard. I have to find out about him now.

And I got the quote from a Hallmark card. That may trivialize it to some but it also brings the point home, doesn't it? How else would I have found it but in the here and now?

I have to admit I've spent much of my life waiting for the mother ship to arrive to give me a ride home. When it didn't seem to be coming anytime soon, I decided to go ahead and mate with one of the natives here and then the urge to reproduce superceeded any interstellar travel plans I had. Now that the offspring are able to care for themselves for the most part, I have all the time in the world to daydream about other worlds and utopias from the past but I found that I've lost my taste for that. I'm too interested in the host of little goldfinches dining on the bag of thistle hanging from my eave. And that huge dark blue sky south of the birds that looks like it's going to maybe cause flash flooding again. And Taj Mahal singing "Sweet Home Chicago" on my computer.

I might still accept a ride if the ship ever showed up, but then I might just tell them that I want to stick around and make this world a better place. We still haven't achieved world peace yet.

It's raining again. Maybe this is the year for the 100 year flood? Maybe not. There isn't a lot of snow left up in the mountains. The best thing that is happening is that the reservoirs are filling again.

We got our first delivery of the season from Monroe Organic Farm. This week was simply lettuce, summer squash, turnips, garlic, and new potatoes. The new potatoes will make up part of supper tonight along with some broiled porkchops.

The garden is in bloom and the Plums and Apples are little green things right now. We are in Lavender and Roses time now. And Honeysuckle like I haven't seen before in my yard. The smell is heavenly.

This year the urge to go out of town is absent, so no trips to Crestone or Glenwood Springs so far. Glenwood Springs later, when the nights get a little cooler so we can see the misty tornados rising off the water.

Still working on "Cold Mountain" and just started "Stranger in a Strange Land" (a re-read after many years). Life is good and I'm enjoying the details immensely.

The Great Pop vs Soda Controversy

We've had Seattle like weather here for the last three days. That's unheard of in Colorado. Three days of varying degrees of wetness: drizzle, showers, plain old rain, sprinkles. The weatherman hasn't started mentioning "sun breaks" in the forecast yet. We may have a few more days of wet until real sunshine comes back. The ground seems to be slurping it all up. I noticed a little pooling of water in the walkway for the first time this afternoon. The birds seemed to enjoy getting spritzed by the afternoon mizzle.

Is the Crocodile Hunter talking about penquins? Gotta see this.

A few years ago, The Boulder Planet weekly sponsored an "Eccentric Gardens" tour which was a delight. This year someone organized another one which was just about as fun.

My favorite by far was Sherry Hart's Art Farm since you could feel her heart and soul throughout. Lots of water features, lots of yard art, a garden shrine made from a bathtub turned on end and planted in the ground, chickens, an outdoor fireplace and garden sculptures fashioned from chicken wire.

George Peters (the kite maker) was my next favorite. His was the first garden I've seen to use mirrors to open up the space. The fence around the yard is a whimsical design that gave off some inspiration for our yard.

Altogether a wonderful way to celebrate our 24th anniversary!

For the last 15 years, I've taken the boys Down South to see the Folks and relax. We used to meet at the beach the week after Labor Day but then the boys had to go and start school when they were teenagers so it's hard to make that happen. So we changed it to summer visits to a more northerly (but not by much) Southern town. I crave sweetened iced tea, barbeque correctly prepared, cornbread that isn't sweet, turnip greens cooked in some kind of ham or pork, fresh farmers' market tomatoes, high humidity offset by cold air conditioner, the multisonous noises of all sorts of creepy bugs in the night air, and mostly, the feelings of "what's the rush?" and "it's all ok."

Isn't it funny how infectious asthetics are? Contagious, almost. Inspiring would be another word, I think.

I wonder about all those people who live in those near empty towns in the middle of the country in the middle of no where. Metal and some wood thrown together and roads that turn to dirt at the edge of town. They can be depressing or you can read someone like Wallace Stegner and realize that the big sky is comparable to a big beautiful cathedral to those who live there and love the area. Talk to someone who grew up there and realize it's the way the yellow straw undulates in the wind and the way the sunsets last forever and the way the thunderstorms literally fill the sky. It's simply a matter of having an interpreter.

I guess someone did get hurt when the parachuters missed the mark. A lady got some facial cuts and was taken to the hospital - no word on any other condition.