Friday Ramble - Monarchs and Summer Musics

There have not been many Monarch butterflies about this year so far, and I did a spirited, wobbly dance a day or two ago when a single glorious specimen flew past my freckled nose and alighted in a clump of purple echinacea nearby - in my excitement, I almost forgot to capture a photo. One would have to go a long way to top the brilliant colors of the palette that was on display. Red, purple, orange and gold go perfectly together at any time of the year, but especially in shaggy, flowering July. 

A few minutes later, a single cicada started to broadcast its call for a mate from somewhere high in the trees, then came another and another and another. Again and again, their tymbal muscles contracted and relaxed, the sonorous vibrations resulting in what is, for me anyway, summer's most resonant and engaging musical score. Time stood still as Beau and I listened to that poignant and hopeful chorus.

There are moments one remembers in winter, and this was one of those moments. It was wonderful (in the original sense of that word) to watch small wonders flutter and swoop through the garden on stained glass wings, to listen to the annual cicadas rasp and chirr their ardent mating ballads in the trees over our heads.

Life doesn't get any better than this, and it doesn't get any wilder. For a moment I wished my departed soulmate was here with us, and then I remembered that he is. His spirit is tucked in my pocket, and he can see and hear everything we see and hear as we go along. The three of us, together as always.