July is the season of botanical abundance, in the garden, in the fields, and along the roadside. My daughter chose these wildflowers for our botany drawing today.
Kathy
Colen
Independence Day
My favorite parades are not those of the professional gigantic floats and inflatable cartoon characters, but the small-town variety featuring decorated bicycles and the local fire truck. Especially if there are participants expressing themes so personal and local that they are perfectly incomprehensible to an out-of-towner.
Melinda
Carrie
Leisure
Here are cows I sketched on an early morning walk. The lovely and generous cow works hard all the time, transforming grass into milk, butter, and ice cream. Yet she always looks like she’s on vacation.
Whenever I encounter this poem, I receive it as a gentle reminder of the value of cow-ness. I post it here in honor of its author, William Henry Davies (1871-1940), whose birthday it is today.
What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night. No time to turn at Beauty’s glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance. No time to wait till her mouth can Enrich that smile her eyes began. A poor life this is if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare.—William Henry Davies
Louis XIV
Well, not THAT Louis XIV. This one lives in a henhouse on the grounds of Thyme in the Country, a lovely B&B in Hudson, New York, where we enjoy visiting the cows and poultry, strolling around the pond, and admiring the organic vegetable garden. He’s probably happier than the original Louis.
Hannah
Camille
Dying Clean
Years ago, when I worked full time, and we were all preparing to head out of town for our annual convention, one of my colleagues always announced, “I’ve got to go home and get my house dying clean.” I didn’t really believe that her grieving family’s first thoughts would be for the impeccable cleanliness of her home. Ah, how simple my life was then. With time, I too have become an initiate of the pre-travel cleaning blitz. Not because I worry about the state of my house after my death. But because I don’t want to walk in the door to find heaps of laundry and dirty dishes when I return home with a car full of wet bathing suits and cracker crumbs.
A word from the pilot
He who would travel happily must travel light.
—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, whose birthday it is today. And it may be much-welcome advice for those struggling to get out of town.
Marilyn
Trevor
House on the sound
I sat painting this house with no idea who lives there. But doesn’t it look restful?
Paul
The Next Generation
If you have been following this blog for a while, you may recall that in April my daughter and I took a kidney bean from a big jar of kidney beans in our kitchen and set it in moist cotton, whereupon it sprouted, after which we planted it in the garden. Lo and behold, it grew into a bean plant, blossomed, and brought forth brand-new kidney beans. I realize that this is not a discovery original to us, but somehow it was just as thrilling as if it were.
Colby
Cathedral alcove
For Sunday, I post another of the Washington Cathedral series, a work in progress. And what isn’t.
Houses before sunrise
Cathy and Paul
Carrie