Hippie reflections on a fine Iowa day

It’s nice outside. This is one of the few times that I am completely alone and the weather doesn’t completely suck. I have to admit the back yard is in pretty good shape noting that there is absolutely no maintenance work done out here by the new owner besides mowing. It is homage to the previous owners of the house. On the deck, yet above me rises a tall apple tree and behind me is the house flanked by a cherry tree. Not to mention there are various bushes, shrubs, and flowers still alive. This is all framed by a background of a static grey sky. Iowa overcast. I remember a weather fact from when I worked at public radio that during the spring and fall months in Iowa, the sky was overcast something like 3 out of every 4 days.

The cat looks outside from the sliding door. Sorry kid, your clock is punched. You have a habit of eating anything that can kill you. I wonder how your genetics managed to not get filtered out of the kitty gene pool thousands of years ago.

There is enough coverage around this area that the wind is never strong unless it is storming.

Also there are birds. They are drawn by the cherries no doubt; and I am sure they will eat all of them again this summer. That is one of the things that I miss from my child hood home. We had a cherry tree that produced so much that the birds could not consume all of them. There was always fruit left over. My dad would set a ladder to the tree and pick as many as he could, throwing the cherries into reused walmart plastic shopping bags. I would then have the glorious job of pitting the damned things.

The pies were worth it though.

The tree at my old home has since split and died. Oh sure, it still has leaves and occasionally produces fruit, but it is dead. It is just too stupid to know it.

To the left is my garden and it is doing very well. The only casualty so far is the basil which probably died of root rot. There was nothing to be done. The religious icon that was to bless the basil stands as a grim reminder of the precarious position of my potted plants.