And the nature magic continues...

The insect chorus hums as I write and I am keenly aware of the shifting of the sun southward. We are celebrating the fall equinox and it hardly seems possible. This summer filled us up with warmth and beauty and dried us up with drought. We are tired of watching plants wither before they normally would, but we remain steadfast in our hope that rain will return.

Some of the beauty we lived and loved on our little patch of Earth must be shared so here is my late summer post written for each of you and as a reminder for me. Thanks as always for sharing in our lives.

Eastern Wahoo (Euonymus atropurpureus) flowers wowed us with their purple color....a subtle prelude to their orange seeds and pink capsules.

Swamp aster or bristly aster (Symphyotrichum puniceum) is magnificent - probably my favorite aster, though how can I pick? The richness of New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) even amidst the drought drops me to my knees in awe. Her purple flowers opened up even as all her leaves fell off and the swamp aster said goodbye much ahead of time. This resiliency supports our spirits and the migrating monarchs in such an important and needed way.

Planting False Indigo (Amorpha fruticosa), an excellent bee plant, made me take an up close look at the nitrogen fixing nodules of leguminous plants. This bacterial/plant relationship is pretty freakin' cool. Plants always wow me, I mean really. I've said it before - chlorophyll, making your own food in your body - how do you top that?

This fascination and all the relationships is, of course, why we grow the plants we do...

and create the sacred space we do. Yes sacred. How can it be anything else? See for yourself:

Gray treefrog resting on cup plant...

Monarchs feasting on common milkweed in our lean-to greenhouse...

Saddleback caterpillar feasting on staghorn sumac...

Crocus geometer moth...

Carpenter bee nectaring on swamp milkweed...

Laurel sphinx...

Spined micrathena web and female...

American plum fruit (so delicious and the only one produced this year)...

Tiger swallowtail nectaring on obedient plant...

Large maple spanworm resting on native lettuce...

Spotted apatelodes caterpillar munching...

(For more on this sacredness, read Mary Oliver's Winter Hours page 107 and 108.)

Winter comes every year and is on the way so we prepared this summer by: 

planting hardy greens,

stacking by-product firewood,

and this year, working with our cats to help them like one another and get ready to travel for a little winter journey to a warmer and sunnier land...

The light around us this time of year beams, twirls and swirls and lights us on fire. It's often in my daydreams and nightdreams; Steve says I am a photon. My dream, I say! I come to life in the radiance of that magnificent celestial being so I played with this photo and made it show the magic I felt in the light watching these sawtooth sunflowers (Helianthus grosseserratus).

The summer magic culminated in the green darner migration through Ohio, which was absolutely phenomenal and landed us on our rear ends for hours amidst the plants watching the thousands of winged lives zipping about eating up mosquitoes, gnats and flying ants.

This pileated woodpecker feather we found on a hike reminded me, once again, there is so much life around, not always or often seen, but still there and breathing (or not) and living and going about life just like I am. The connection we all share with this world is deep and wide and to feel it, all we need to do is pay attention.

Don't miss all our weekly You Tube videos highlighting this beauty.

Till next time my friends, we wish you much love, hope and resiliency! 

P.S. Strange Trails by Lord Huron - I find I can't get enough of this music. I love it and for a folk music girl, it's an unusual allegiance. Also, this. "When the ocean drinks the sky and the city winks its eye." "I hear the river say your name." This language is what does it, I suppose. Do you love music too? Please share your favorites.

Travels, Adventure, Wonders of Nature and Open Days

The summer winds blew us across the country and back again to celebrate the rich and diverse life of the beautiful North America. A very special man knew this July birthday girl wanted nothing more than time outdoors exploring - starting, of course, with a strong cup of black coffee.

We met Tall Green Milkweed in the heat of Missouri...

 and snow melt lakes in the heart of the Colorado Rockies.

Us flatlanders struggled with the near 13,000' altitude, but the plants and views made the lack of red blood cells more than worth it. And to be fair to our blood cells, we felt mighty better after a few days camped high. It's all about adaptation.

Our July 4th fireworks sparkled in the faces of the alpine flowers and twinkly, starlit night. Perfect.

Crystal clear waters made us drop to our knees everytime in gratitude. Sometimes we fought back tears wondering why on Earth so many of the waters of our homeland are straightened and filled with topsoil or subsoil and the color of mud, but we know it's a brief blip in the history of the planet and clear water will flow in sinuous braids once again.

Caddisflies told me about the purity of the water and I sat with them for a while and they visit me frequently in my memory. I hold onto them and their message of hope.

Onward we journeyed in the Glamp, the perfect base camp.

We stopped to contemplate the Colorado river...so fabled, so controversial and so needed to so many.

Natural Bridges National Monument wowed us beyond belief with rocks, colors and life. Swallows nipped and tucked overhead bringing food to babies and had us giggling in delight with their more than swift flight. Little pockets of water held quickly developing tadpoles. We sat a lot. We didn't think too much. We just absorbed and filled up our depleted wells of inspiration.

Cicadas in Utah helped me continue the celebration of my 41st birthday; they obviously knew the music of their wings is the music of my heart.

We made it all the way to Hell's Backbone Grill in Boulder, UT and delighted in the food, the spectacular scenery and reverence for life. The owners are in the fight for Grand Staircase-Escalante and we felt grateful to be amongst other Earth lovers and proud to support them.

Showy Milkweed saluted us near Calf Creek, while Lower Calf Creek waterfall elicited more laughter than any other time on the trip as we dipped into the icy, cool waters with a whole pack of boyscouts whooping and hollering.

Again, we bowed to clear water naturally supporting three species of trout. No stocking here.

The home bound winds blew and boondocked us on top of the world in Wyoming. Coyotes yipped, nighthawks peented and horned larks sang. Our bellies filled up on farmers' market purchased food and we sat in the breeze feeling the shifts of change. Homecoming, but better.

The Badlands of South Dakota offered us singing chorus frogs. How did they all know? How did all my heart-harbored life know I was celebrating them and by singing their song, my very own song grew richer and richer?

We traveled through Iowa to visit Seed Savers Exchange and the Baltimore oriole's nest above our campspot told us this was right. You see, if you haven't gathered already, we want to support good work and hope in this world.

The appreciation of local food in this community is strong. We loved Seed Savers farm, the local food coop and the farmers' market. Keeping us well fed while traveling is easy in the summer.

The vestiges of prairie in Illinois (Midewin Ntl. Tallgrass Prairie) and Indiana (Kankakee Sands) welcomed us back and once again wove our minds and hearts into this spectacular ecosystem. Seeing what was and what can be again buoyed our efforts to bring wildness back to all of our hearts and lands.

Common Milkweed said: "Hello old friends. I'm glad you are back. The flowers are in bloom, the juvenile Common Yellowthroats are flitting about and the dragonflies are hunting. The 3.5 acres you call home does not want you to miss the show."

"Now, let's get to work rewilding and inviting life back."

The wisdom of Milkweed lives strong again.

Here's an article I wrote on this very topic. I titled it Life in Flyover Country. Have you ever thought, that in fact we ARE flyover country here in the Midwest to thousands and millions of winged beings?

Come visit us! We have 3 open days scheduled on this magical 3.5 acres, where we are offering plants to aid in this planting revolution and restoration of wildness. See our website for very important details. 

Check out our latest VIDEOS.

Also, I created an Instagram account for The Common Milkweed since so many of you requested me to do so. I have no idea what I am doing yet, but if you are on there find us @The Common Milkweed.