August Hummingbird

AUGUST HUMMINGBIRD

August Beach Days

In times when teenages were really young, they came in daily droves... In 57' Chevys Fan tailed Plymouths, and in red convertibles, laid back and free. The girls...they were girls then... packed in like lolipops...and yes, they knew just who might be on Beaches Six and Ten. Then, swinging beach bags laden down with Coppertone and swimming caps, they searched the crowded sand for a just perfect place to spread an Indian blanket down... to lie in oiled skin beneath the pulsing sun that beat, beat, beat down rays to the rhythm of the hearts below that skipped and shivered when a bronze- tanned Prince walked by with nose Noxema white and hair slicked back, all

Brill Cream cool.

Sandra Peasley Bush

Peaceful River

                                                     The Ohio River at Vienna, WV

The river waters run slowly and peacefully beneath the warm July sky. It was not always so. In the spring, the river ran high and moved quickly. Carrying the waters of melting Northern snow and heavy rains, it swelled over its banks, in many places, and created distress for all who lived nearby. Like the river, our lives go through periods of calm and periods of overwhelming upset. At the time, it may seem that the condition we are experincing will not change, but change it will. And, the new condition that appears will also come and go, flowing like the river, on and on. Enjoy those times of quiet waters in your life and know, with confidence, that you will have everything you need for the times when the waters are not so peaceful. Everything passes. Everything changes.

                                                                            http://sandscript02.wordpress.com/

Peace to you, Sandra

Deer Morning

                                                            After a night of storms
                                                            A buck
                                                            A doe
                                                           Two fawn             
                                                           Coats wet
                                                           Came ambling
                                                           Down the hill
                                                           In search of breakfast
                                                           Stopping still
                                                           A moment
                                                           Greeting me
                                                           In silence
                                                           Before moving on
                                                          Toward tender
                                                          Rain washed leaves
                                                          The buck
                                                          The doe
                                                          Two fawn.
                                                          
                                                          
                                                         
                                                                       Sandra Peasley Bush
                                                     
                                                      
                                                    
                                                  
                                         
                  

Doe in the Morning

Monsters of the Past

Last summer, the tomato plants on my patio were invaded by ugly green monsters that ate away at stems, leaves and fruit.  
Tomato hornworms. 
It was deeply discouraging to see healthy plants stripped in the night of their worth by the greedy, insatiable creatures. 
By autumn, after weeks of plucking off and tossing away the invaders,  I vowed never again to plant tomatoes. 
In the spring,  my garden seemed incomplete without the usual potted plant with its promise of sweet red fruit. 
Yet, I couldn't shake the bad memories.
 I was anything but anxious to try again. 
It was later in the season than usual, when I finally relented.
While I shopped for petunias at the garden center, a healthy young  tomato plant ,bearing bright yellow blossoms, caught my attention.
Oh, how could I face a summer without homegrown tomatoes!
It would be different, this year, I reasoned. 
Now, I'd know how to keep watch for signs of the innocent looking hummingbird moths that become the dreadful worms.
Last year's unfortunate history need not repeat itself.
After all, hadn't I known many prior, worm free years  raising juicy tomatoes?
With a smile on my face, I paid the cashier and tucked the plant into my trunk. 
The new tomato plant took its place in the garden, and to this day, has not shown any signs of infestation.  Plump green tomatos are growng right on schedule.
Soon, we'll be enjoying rosy red slices on our sandwiches and salads, as the memories of last year fade away.
I'm examining my life for past encounters with worms.
What other bad experiences are keeping me from trying again?