where the wild weeds are

The only time to enjoy a bike ride on a steamy day like this is early.

I was out early. Up Old Sauk hill, down again. (Errands.) It is a steep hill.





And then I packed my bag for a day of work on the porch of the farmette.

It was a day meant for Ed's motorbike. Most often, I’m cold on it and I huddle behind Ed’s big frame to avoid the wind. Today, in the 90 degree weather, I revel in the cooling effect of the ride.

By late afternoon, I’m done with my allotted work tasks. Ahead of schedule!

I suggest a quick walk on one of my favorite paths in the area – the Nature Conservancy trail just a little over a mile south from Ed’s farmette.





No matter what season we go there, it is lovely. Today, I think we may as well be walking with the poets in the lake region of England. The path, the meadows, the woods, allowing quick peeks of the lake in the distance – surely this is what writers need for inspiration.





What I find most humbling are the bunches of wildflowers: phlox, clover, bramble, and the always supremely lovely lupine. I've had at least two occasions to love lupine: one straight out of a story book about a "lupine lady" that I used to read to my little girls again and again, and the other -- straight out of the real book of happy events. My friend got married amidst a field of wild lupines. No one can convince me that lupines are anything but splendid.





Then there is the lesser phlox. How is it that we have come to scorn this sweet, airy flower?





I remember when phlox had overtaken a part of my flower bed some years ago (when I actually had flower bed). I hadn’t the heart to pull the purple flower out – it was so pretty! A friend said – oh, I see you haven’t gotten to weeding either this year... But that wasn’t true: I just could not accept that this was considered a weed!





We end out walk and head back to town, earlier than usual. Tomorrow I’m flying east. My littlest one is graduating from law school. Our family is congregating in Cambridge – indeed, my 86 year old mother is flying from San Francisco to join us for this. It should be a great set of days.

(Ed? No, he’ll stay at the farmette and tend to the tomato plants. One way to enjoy the company of an occasional traveling companion is to understand that sometimes, the companion is not well suited to a particular trip. One of the best lessons for continued companionship is to understand that sometimes it has to be “occasional.”)