Who knows the secrets of a homestead in summer but its owner?
I know where the blackberries grow.
Under the pines; and when they will be ripe.
Oh to be eaten by mosquitoes in July picking tonight's dessert. Just a bowl or two. With honey and walnuts. Enough but not plenty.
Who can tell you where the tiger lilies bloom in the field? And around the mailbox too.
And when the hummingbird visits the milkweed blossoms to drink nectar, morning and evening? To surprise me while weeding the garden bed.
Why just today I found the grosbeak's nest in the climbing rose!
So interested was she in my watering the garden with my watering can. And now I know. A nest to protect.
Or where the snails munch by the creek? In the morning while walking the dogs? So quiet and ravenous.
Opening the small gate to the little path by the side of house where nothing much grows except hostas and ferns?
My castle. My realm. My chateau. From all of the world, who knew it took only my listening, my watching; be quiet to escape?
