Camellias

Teach your children

what we have taught our children --

that the earth is our mother.

Whatever befalls the earth

befalls the sons and daughters of the earth.

I men spit upon the ground,

they spit upon themselves.

This we know.

The earth does not belong to us,

we belong to the earth.

This we know.

All things are connected

like the blood with unites on family.

All things are connected.

Whatever befalls the earth

befalls the sons and daughters of the earth.

We did not weave the web of life,

We are merely a strand in it.

Whatever we do to the web,

we do to ourselves.

                          

                                    CHIEF SEATTLE                                                                            

My late mother use to tell me of the lovely camellias to which she was introduced when she moved to Southern California from Iowa. Her descriptions were just so lovely as well as so foreign to someone living in Iowa.  So when I was first escorted to my first dance during junior high school I requested a camellia I could wear around my wrist.

While in Sebastopol for the Farmers Market, I dropped off books at the library. On either side of the walkway to the library entrance there are a number of camellia bushes. Some are in bloom while others only have flower buds.

I broke off a piece with a bud and open flower of one of the bushes. When I arrived back at my home, I placed it in a small milk jar. It now adorns my table where I eat most of my meals. 

When my late husband and and I moved to our house, the front yard had many camellia bushes. I advertised that camellia bushes were available for the taking. A gentleman responded and he came, dug them all up and planned to plant them in large pots. I was so grateful that someone was going to enjoy what I did not want. For those of you who follow this blog you are aware native plants have been planted (and are flourishing) in the front yard.

As I look outside there is a bit of blue sky and big puffy white clouds. The rain, for now, seems to have passed. Of course, more is predicted this week. All rain is relished since the moisture is so needed. 

 I wish for all of you, and myself as well, a hardy belly

Glorious

A bit late but the weather person I listen to in the evening assures me that December is when the rainy season begins. So far I have measured 2.3 inches of rain in my rain gauge with this glorious arrival of rain. More rain is predicted today (Sunday December 04, 2022) with more coming throughout the week.

In my opinion right now we cannot get enough rain. The ground beneath the mulch here at PageRefuge is dry, dry, dry. All the plants throughout the property are so looking forward to getting much more rain to help them establish deeper roots. Of course, with deeper roots come a more above the ground vegetation with an abundance of flowers some Spring time and Summer.

Dwight's picture of me walking
towards the entrance of Tower Gallery.
Oh how much fun we had driving
up here frequently.
We took all of our friends who came to visit too.
Some of them even got to meet Roxanne

Roxanne Swentzell Gallery in Santa Fe, NM presents

Big Heads at her Tower Gallery. 

"It is in response to the state of the world 

and its disjointedness. 

All the gapped polarities

between viewpoints have felt like

humanity has lost its ability to 

connect and relate to itself as a whole.

The head, torso and legs have forgotten how to work

together so that the entire body can 

function well.

Big Heads is a result of heads not working 

with the other body parts to get the whole perspective.....,

a fuller perspective, a wiser perspective, 

a more loving perspective." 

The entrance to Tower Gallery

Every single minute, hour, day, month that Dwight is absent in my life, I grieve his loss. I miss him so much. AND I am ever so grateful he is no longer struggling to breathe. He is at peace where ever souls go once they depart their human form.

I must add here that he is no longer here to read my unpublished blog posts and tp critique them as only an English professor can. So whatever errors anyone may find they are of mine.

As we, where ever we are, individually struggle with gaining a whole perspective during this glorious rainy season here in Northern California, may we celebrate with a deep belly