BAY AREA STEW -
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Morning in the Garden
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In the Morning
by Angie Minkin
Red tea tree flowers drift
over the white rock roses as my fat tabby hunts spiders crawling through lace shadows. The cat sighs, sprawls in the sun, considers the swallowtail butterflies that land on the lavender and quiver in San Francisco summer winds. Too lazy to move, she stares at blush roses that wander up the arbor, ignores the huge honeybees mining the purple-blossomed ceanothus nectar. On my knees, I weed the dwarf lilacs, inhale their faint scent of childhood, hack down the trickster blackberry vine that regenerates no matter how many times I sear its roots. I sigh, wait for night-- wait to be moon-filled. |
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