yesterday, I spent some time with my cuz mary. she had surgery on Friday, still a little sore, moving slow, I went out and watered her flowers for her. we walked about a third of the way down her driveway as she is trying to build her strength back. her driveway winds up about half a mile. her place sitting up above the branch is idyllic and perfect for quiet recovery time. she showed me her pear trees and said the peaches were all gone. on the walk down the driveway and back up she said her mom called these purple flowers 'farewell summer'. later, my aunt showed up and asked me if I knew what these purple flowers were called. I said, yes, they're ironweed. my aunt looked at me and said, 'I always called them farewell summer." yes, I said, they bloom late summer. my dad had told me they are a sign of good soil. Cherokee used them medicinally.
I refreshed her pit's water bowl and was rewarded with a friendly lick. I put some bird seed out and moved the bird bath closer to the bird seed. when I first showed up she shared what little herb she had. ive cut way back on my consumption of and have been experiencing unpropitious results thereof. I commented on a hummingbird that was resting on a twig, I asked her if she had ever tried Charlie's (a former neighbor who moved out to new mexico--not to be confused with Charlie, her house dog, 18 years old, found the secret fountain of youth apparently, playfully teased me with it's pink monkey squeaky toy) floral water, she hadnt and if had some floral wire could make a swing for the hummingbird. I looked up brian doyle's essay on hummingbirds for mary to read. if you havnt read it, here is your chance.