The mountains greet the night.  Dusk’s departure subsidizes the light of the stars.  I lay awake, awash in remnants of the day.

What is our obsession with energy in this country?  We’re like an addict; never satisfied and always wanting more.  It’s the cars we drive, the energy intensive recreation activities we participate in, electronics sapping energy though they’re turned off, the food we eat.  Is it even a question why we have an obesity epidemic in our nation?  Addicted to energy in all forms – the calorie, the coal, the gas, the nuke plants.

I often draw inspiration from my garden.  Today while mulling around checking out some onions, I hear a rustling underneath the cardboard I laid down to keep the weeds from growing on my foot path.  Lo and behold this character straight out of a children’s book pops his head up and asks if I’ve seen his friend, Frog.

I love days where the coming and going of the day is marked by showers.  Day 49 was such a day.  Here in Hartford, the rain was steady and enduring.  It lacked the ferocity of a summer thunderstorm, but kept it’s integrity – unlike a quick summer shower proceeded by sunshine.

I love the eagerness with which the flowers approach their life cycle.  From the time they break through the security of the earth, till the time they scatter their progeny, they have a jeux de vie unlike no other.

It’s in my ancestral blood; pagan tribes living by cues of the Sun and the cycles of the Moon.  The Solstice approaches.  The length of the day defeats the unknown of the night.  Thoughts of harvest postponed til autumn’s alarm.  Summer is here.

Oh sacred Oak.  Enduring, strong, favored by Thor, and the gateway to the otherworld.

They definitely aren’t made like this anymore.  Thanks to all the gear heads out there keeping the legacy of Detroit alive.