Chapter Seven

Great gatherings of wild phlox that stand along the roadsides greet us as we drive into the country side, their purple and white ruffles fluttering in the drags of air as we go by. Whether they are applauding our arrival or our departure is undecided. They celebrate themselves in their finery, talking to each other in groups, proud yet shy, telling the secrets of their journey to this spot and the things they hope to do now.They watch the busyness of the men, wielding great swirling blades from long cantilevered arms of steel, making flat plains of gnarled tree branches,and massive cups of space below and around the wires. Pushed back from lengths of wire and connections,the machines create abstract works of flora, equal to any exhibit in the modern museums. Great fluorescent marks brand the scheduled sculptures as they wait their turn. Pampered in their place, unmoved, the contraptions and the ensuing commotion are a source of wonder to the fragile audiences.Tall blades of tender grass tremble under the clearest blue porcelain dome, juxtaposed, just so the contrast creates the greatest effect. The lack of moisture that might usually refract the scenery in the summer months, giving it soft edges, is not anywhere to be found, making for the signature springtime clean and crisp panoramas, almost hard to view in their clarity.
The beauty is all around us, flowing over and through our senses making a balm of calm and peace, inevitable to even those of us in the throes of depressed thoughts.It cannot be escaped. Lilacs, white and purple and lavender, top the waving branches of dark green leaves, throwing their scent in the air to join the cherry blossoms. The iris are striving to make their appearance,in all their fanciness, rigid and royal. The peonies are lolling in their stands, anticipated by ants and human alike for their sweetness and grandiose blooms. Thick succulent stalks of asparagus are standing at attention, straining to see the beauty that surrounds them. Soon they will tire and sag, ever so slightly before drawing their lace around themselves until next year.
The tulips and daffodils are gone now, slowly replaced by the many varieties of clematis vines and morning glory. Mail boxes adorned above by intricate patterns of ropey tendrils, dotted by color, and surrounded by masses of sturdier, stronger varieties of marigold or begonias. Ascending and descending slopes leading to sidewalks and porches are draped with ground creeping carpets of brightly colored phlox, of the other variety.
The low bushy areas around the trees on the outside edge of the property is filling in completely  now with the brambles of wild raspberries and multi flora rose. Mingling with the vines, is the infamous poison ivy that will twirl in her red dress come fall. All will wrap around the bases of the trees, making any passage a treacherous undertaking and a safe refuge for all kinds of wild life.
Ferrell cats, raccoons, skunks, rabbits, ground hogs, squirrels, fox, deer, mink,weasels,coyote and all manner of bird live in this haven of thorns and cover.
Fear lives in the brambles with the ivy along with the animals. Contracting the poison from the ivy is purposefully ignored so we can enjoy all that camouflages its existence. Beauty trumps danger any day.