Landscape of Their Days

—Planet Helm—

Song, in her petite elven form, wearing a dark green tunic over grey leggings, strolled along the wooded glen, soft brown soil cushioning each step while pink blossoms waved in a gentle breeze. She stopped and breathed in the deliciously sweet scent of spring.

Butterflies sailed by as birds twittered from the branches: bluebirds, redhearts, and goldenhues. Even a pair of orangefires insisted on wishing her a good morning.

She smiled and bowed in the accustomed greeting between Bhuac and natures’ citizens.

A fierce greenhawk swooped in and, with its large bulky body, bristled, sending the gentler folk into a frightened frenzy. The joy-filled chirping turned to cawing and sharp screams of distress.

Her heart twisting, Song watched, helpless to alter the scene for though she ruled the planet, her influence in the wild only reached so far.

Pounding steps along the wooded path, turned her attention. A figure jogged forward, long black hair flowing over thin shoulders, clear eyes narrowed in concentration. A strong woman suffering from unaccustomed weakness.

Kelesta?

Slapping her hand against her chest, the woman came to a skidding halt before Song, heaving deep to catch her breath. “They’re going back!”

Her heart clenched; Song froze. As if understanding the gravity of the moment, the feathered feud ceased, and silence descended. Only the sun continued to shine unabated. With a start, Song realized that she could not sense a thing. Even the ground under her feet had fallen away.

“Did you hear me?” The woman drew closer, her hand reaching, whether to awaken her mentor or grasp at needed strength, neither could guess.

Song nodded. “I heard.” She forced a calm smile. “It is good to see you again, Kelesta. Where is your husband and daughter?”

A darted glance at the sky and a facial spasm spoke louder than words. “They’ve gone too.” Her gaze fell. “Ark passed on and his son, Tarragon is taking his place.” She straightened her shoulders. “Teal is sick, and Sterling is…preoccupied. A Luxonian named Mauve has stolen his heart.” She sucked in a deep breath, readying herself for painful truth-telling. “Zuri wants to teach Nova about humanity’s true nature. Perhaps make room in her soul for—” Kelesta flapped her arms like a bird perched on the edge of flight. “Something.” She shrugged. “She certainly isn’t interested in me.”

Caught in a snare that had held her for much too long, Song wrapped her arm around the young Bauchi woman. “She loves you—she just doesn’t know it yet.”

With a muffled sob against the older woman’s shoulder, Kelesta gave way to tears. “She can’t love someone she doesn’t know. She refuses to even consider what Zuri and I offer.”

The sun, still on its ascent, shone bright from the clear golden sky. “Let’s return and have a morning cup with biscuits and honey-jam. You’ve come home just in time to help me face the coming storm. Humanity measures time in such small increments; they do not see the landscape of their days. They are about to undergo a momentous change, and they have no idea of the long-range repercussions.”

“But what about Zuri and Nova—and all the rest?”

Song took Kelesta’s hand and started down the path, her feet padding on the soft, springing soil. “They must learn too. It is what all the living must do or else die in stagnation.”

Kelesta brushed a low hanging branch out of her way, pink blossoms falling on the path, as she kept in step with Song. “But what if she learns the wrong lesson and refuses her father and me? What if we lose our daughter?”

Tears aching behind her eyes, Song looked to the trees and silently beckoned to the birds. Give me strength. “It is the highest praise of our creator to give us freedom.” She squeezed her friend’s hand as the birds burst into fresh song. “It is our trial to endure whatever they choose.”

Books by A. K. Frailey

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend Novels

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter https://amzn.to/3iGqGlQ

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In Production)

OldEarth Melchior Encounter (In Production)

Science Fiction Novels

Last of Her Kind http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Short Stories

It Might Have Been—And Other Short Stories https://amzn.to/2XXdDDz

Encounter Science Fiction Short Stories & Novella https://amzn.to/3dq6q5l

Inspirational Non-Fiction

My Road Goes Ever On—Spiritual Being, Human Journey https://amzn.to/2KvF3Ll

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings https://amzn.to/3rtAy6S

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Photo https://pixabay.com/illustrations/dream-girl-fantasy-nature-4782767/

Don’t Get Blown Away

Grey clouds, gusty winds, and flapping curtains—frantic, as if no one was listening—held Aisling on the threshold, waiting, but for what, she could not say.

Her husband, Diarmuid, hustled an overfilled wheelbarrow across the yard. His muscles strained with the effort, though he whistled a lively tune while he worked.

At the back of the greening-up yard, along the still-winter-dead hedgerow, her youngest son, Collin, swung on a frayed rope tied from a high branch. A dip in the land allowed him to free fall, enjoying the heady drop without any real danger.

Neither husband nor son seemed the least bit concerned about the pending storm. A neighbor had mentioned as they passed at the post office that morning, “Lots of rain coming. Eager spring planters best hold off a bit, or every seed’ll be washed away.”

A sharp crack and snapping branches caught Aisling’s attention. A damaged tree that had kept a stretched roothold into the bank of the ever-widening river had given way and was now lodged in the crook of a straight but world-weary tree.

Having dumped his load of compost, Diarmuid looked over, a rake motionless in his hand. “Ya see that?”

Aisling nodded.

Collin pelted across the yard, a spring kite off its tether, his shirttail flapping behind him. He skidded to a stop at the crumbling bank. “Hey, da! See what it’s done!”

Aisling met her husband at the crooked river bend where the tree fell and got caught.

“It’s them strangling vines that done it. They’re taking over the back lot, sucking up the water and soil, so even the young starve where they stand.”

A swift kick to the gut could not have stunned Aisling more. Dread chased logic right out of her mind. “Niamh got the job.”

Darkness deepened the glint in Diarmuid’s eyes. “I hope she knows what she’s about. There’s no telling what life’ll be like that far from home. Can’t harvest a garden in a city apartment.”

Motherly defenses rising, Aisling crossed her arms, a barricade against fears that can’t possibly understand. “It’s her life. She has to find her own way.”

“The land holds true when people fail.”

A gust of wind toppled a chair on the porch, sending Collin sprinting across the yard. “I’ll get it. Just hope the house don’t blow away!”

With a sharp turn, Diarmuid paced back to the half-tilled garden.

Under her breath, Aisling prayed. “I hope so too.”

~~~

Late that night, as the house stood quiet and the curtains hung limp and lifeless, Aisling wiped the counter and wrung the dishrag dry. She lay it on the edge of the clean sink, took a last glance around the orderly kitchen, and turned off the light. She headed for bed.

Moonlight shone through Collin’s window, and the toe of his boot glinted from under a chair.

She padded down the hallway, the sound of the shower grew louder in her ears. In the master bedroom, she peeled off her shoes and socks and then readied her bedclothes. Her computer screen had gone to sleep, but she knew there were emails and financial business to attend to early the next morning. A stack of biographies, novels, and historical epics lay beside the bed. Lots to read, to imagine, to consider, but her exhausted brain couldn’t fathom anything more than her bedtime ritual.

The shower spray stopped with a sudden halt, the floorboards groaned, and she could imagine Diarmuid drying off in his own methodical way.

Everything was peaceful now, and Aisling wondered at her dread-filled fears during the storm. She searched her mind for the emotional landmines that had sent her down such a treacherous rabbit hole. Niamh’s new job? She shook her head and pulled down the covers on the bed. There was no reason to fear that a grown woman living a mere hundred miles away would come to a bad end just because she worked in the city.

The bathroom door opened, and Diarmuid, dressed in his sweat pants and little else, strolled in, toweling off his hair. “We’ll have to take two cars. She’ll need one till she gets settled in. And there’s a zoo near the place Collin might like. We can make a weekend of it. Once she finds out what life is like there, she might appreciate home a bit more.”

Aisling nodded. There was no arguing her husband’s brand of logic.

She plodded to the bathroom, stripped, and got into the shower, and turned it on piping hot. Luxuriating in the steaming spray, Collin’s words ran in her mind: hope the house don’t get blown away.

Suddenly her fear made perfect sense. She wasn’t afraid of losing her daughter but losing the home her daughter could return to.

Her home.

Her life.

What makes my life? My home?

“Hey, honey, where’d you put my reading glasses?”

Aisling smiled at a memory. “You left them by the printer this morning when you got the paper stuck, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah. That.”

She heard his chuckle and knew he had remembered too. She slipped on her nightclothes, brushed her teeth, and shuffled into the bedroom.

Diarmuid sat propped against a pile of pillows, a biography in his hand. He looked over his glasses and peered at her. “You doing okay?”

A gust of wind hit the house and startled the curtains.

But the house still stood.

A deep abiding peace settled Aisling’s soul. “Yeah. Life’s good. I like your idea about taking two cars and visiting the zoo. I’m going to take a tomato plant in a crate so Niamh can have a little bit of home in her apartment.”

“Huh. Nice thought, but it won’t be the same.”

“No. But we all have to start somewhere. Then we start building and try not to get blown away.”

Books by A. K. Frailey

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend Novels

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter https://amzn.to/3iGqGlQ

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In Production)

OldEarth Melchior Encounter (In Production)

Science Fiction Novels

Last of Her Kind http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Short Stories

It Might Have Been—And Other Short Stories https://amzn.to/2XXdDDz

Encounter Science Fiction Short Stories & Novella https://amzn.to/3dq6q5l

Inspirational Non-Fiction

My Road Goes Ever On—Spiritual Being, Human Journey https://amzn.to/2KvF3Ll

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings https://amzn.to/3rtAy6S

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Photo: https://pixabay.com/photos/storm-farm-house-farm-house-5665074/

What Will Humanity Choose?

Abbas inhaled the bittersweet scent of the dying season, fully conscious of the vitality of his young companion.

Noman paced at his side through the spent garden, his gaze searching, though his lips remained stiffly in place.

They both knew why he had come.

Noman shook his head and waved toward the silent mounds where flowers, bushes, and fruit trees had once bloomed. “I’ve never understood your obsession with seasons. You know perfectly well that it’s just a repetitive cycle.”

Stopping under a gnarled tree radiant with autumn foliage, Abbas smiled through his discomfort. “Stages, even repetitive ones, have much to teach us.” He pointed to three milk-white moons rising in the light-green evening sky. “Everything is a part of a larger whole. We cannot live in isolation.”

Noman tilted his head and stared at the golden sun sinking onto the horizon. “If we are going to survive — much less thrive — we must choose soon.”

Abbas plucked a scarlet leaf off the tree. “Home is where the heart is.”

His tone bitter, Noman snorted a laugh. “You love riddles and poetical expressions, Abbas, but reality faces us with stark choices.”

A soprano note rose over the sleeping landscape, arresting the two. They stopped and listened as the voice danced, rising and falling, whirling with words until the singer burst through the gate at the end of the pathway.

She stood luminous, her long black hair fell past her shoulders, golden eyes sparkled in mischievous fun, and her lips twitched with unspent laughter. A long blue dress caressed her upper body and fell into gentle folds at her feet. A garland of late-season herbs crowned her head.

Abbas’s gaze darted to her rounded tummy, seeing in his mind the life curled on contentment within her body. “Angela?”

Noman’s perfect composure stiffened, a cord stretched to its limit.

Abashed, the laughter on Angela’s lips died. She swayed forward, her gaze slipping from Abbas to Noman. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean — ”

Abbas lifted his hand. “You are always welcome, my love. Any news?”

A fluttered sweep over her tummy, she smiled and nodded a polite salutation. “All is well.” She glanced into the sky. “I pray the same can be said for those under our watchful eye.”

Straightening, Noman scowled, a pedagogue forced to impart a hard lesson. “A time to choose is upon us. They have no intrinsic value other than in service to the greater good.” Noman glanced at Abbas. “I wish you could teach your husband to see with your vision.”

A flash of irritation sped over Angela’s face, quickly replaced by her usual serene unconcern. “My vision only extends to my own sphere. I make no pretense of managing the larger universe.”

Abbas gestured to the arched gateway leading to a magnificent castle, resting on a mountaintop surrounded by a pine forest. The stone structure with myriad exalted towers, round and rectangular windows on every level, and a domed central roof dominated the landscape. “Let’s return and enjoy our evening together.” He nodded at Noman. “We can discuss your concerns in more depth after a good meal — ”

Tapping his thigh, Noman’s agitation spread to the air around him. “There is little to discuss. I simply wanted to know if I had your support.”

Pained, Abbas dropped his gaze. “You have my support but your plan does not.”

His face tightened into a frozen mask, Noman nodded. “What I expected. Though I am disappointed. My mission is now clear.”

Angela sucked in a breath, her hands clasping her middle. “What do you plan to do?”

Noman waved her question away with a formal salute. “Nothing you need concern yourself with.” He turned to Abbas. “I will take my leave. Humans must face the greatest conundrum of their existence. Either they are slaves or masters.” He shook his head. “The council will see, I’m right. It’s a pity, really. You could have saved us all a great deal.” He shrugged. “But it’s no matter. The truth will come out.” He bowed low. “I must be on my way. The sooner I get this over with, the better.”

Angela nodded, her eyes clouded, her forehead furrowed in knots of concern.

In a blink of the eye, Noman disappeared. Only his footprints in the soft soil testified to his presence a moment before.

Angela sighed. “Why is he so angry? And why take it out on a primitive race that has never done him any harm?”

Dread filled Abbas, a gut-wrenching certainty that boded ill for many. “Noman was not created like us. Despite his intelligence and abilities, he lacks fruition.”

Angela swallowed, fear filling her eyes. “But why — ”

“For all of their limitations and failings, humanity can reproduce. A privilege denied him.”

“But he has his own glory. Can’t he see that?”

Abbas sighed and took his wife’s arm. “When we refuse the good in others, we often destroy it in ourselves.”

Angela jerked to a halt, her hand clasping her stomach. “He kicked!” She laughed. “It’s almost as if he could hear you and wanted to respond.”

Abbas lifted his eyes from his wife to the dim horizon, onto the first twinkling stars. “We best get home. Night is falling fast, and we don’t have much time.”

Angela patted his arm. “Don’t worry, my love. We’re protected here, and Noman will do as he pleases, in any case. He always does. What happens out there isn’t our responsibility.” She stepped away and beckoned with laughter. “Let’s enjoy our night together.”

Abbas let her go ahead and stood alone in the dark, his grief rising at the thought of his son inheriting such a universe. He shook his head. Slave, master, or honest service to all. Tears filled his eyes.

What will humanity choose?

Books by A. K. Frailey

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend Novels

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter https://amzn.to/3iGqGlQ

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In Production)

OldEarth Melchior Encounter (In Production)

Science Fiction Novels

Last of Her Kind http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Short Stories

It Might Have Been—And Other Short Stories https://amzn.to/2XXdDDz

Encounter Science Fiction Short Stories & Novella https://amzn.to/3dq6q5l

Inspirational Non-Fiction

My Road Goes Ever On—Spiritual Being, Human Journey https://amzn.to/2KvF3Ll

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings https://amzn.to/3rtAy6S

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Photo: https://pixabay.com/photos/fantasy-land-castle-monk-way-3558581/

Kingdoms of Our World

Of late, I’ve waged a war on carpenter bees, which seem heck-bent on burrowing holes throughout my porch to the point where I have to sweep sawdust off each morning. My attempts at repairing and staining only appear to alter their trajectory, not their aim. Little do they care how much time, money, and energy I’ve put into keeping this house standing.

So I bought carpenter bee traps. I hung the traps and discovered that apparently these flying critters aren’t just battling me—they are battling each other. And they’re battling wasps and flies. Which would be fantastic—if they weren’t turning my porch into kindling.

So I know that once I get the carpenter bees under control, some other bug will come along and fill their nefarious shoes. How ironic is that?

I turn from their incessant buzzing and focus on other winged critters. I love our birds. We have a larger variety this year than ever before. Indigo bunting made nests here, as have swallows, oriels, robins, redwing blackbirds, sparrows, cardinals, blue jays, and a host of other aves friends.

But guess what? They have their battles too. Eagles and hawks dart into ground nests, stealing eggs and hatchlings, vultures crowd around road-kill snipping and snapping, blackbirds chase sparrows from the bird feeder, hummingbirds flit in aeronautic genius, aiming their spear-like beaks at any competition for the nectar supply. And then there are the bird hunters—cats. My fluffy, plaintively-purring-beg-for-a-belly-scratch, quadrupeds turn into malicious bird-killers when I’m not looking.

To be honest, I can’t even count on the weather. I see black cloud mounting in the west, and I think it looks like rain. My 81-year-old-neighbor wrinkles her nose, looks about, and tells me, “Na, it’ll pass by.” She’s been right every time so far this summer. My kids advise me to forget the weather station and just ask Darlene the daily forecast.

When the human race gets me down, I turn to nature for rest and reprieve. But it’s a mixed bag-reality. Like everything else.

Honeybees pollinate, but boy they can sting if I get in their way. Carpenter bees burrow, but they chase away the hornets and flies. The birds chirp, waking me at an hour earlier than I really want to open my eyes, but their colors, air-dances, and musical abilities fill my soul with awe.

There isn’t any part of this earthly kingdom that doesn’t involve a battle—for the lives of nestlings, food supplies, homes, and even a little peace and quiet. The cicadas will start this summer—they could rival a jet engine when they’ve got a mind to.

If I were a beast, bug, or bird, I suppose I’d alternate between fear and fury most of the time. But lucky me—I get to be human. And I have the option of being humane.

When the worst of the human kingdom seems to out-battle the animal kingdom, I can stop and consider options. I can admire glorious majesty and deflect danger, repair damage, bury the dead, pray for peace, and soak in beauty.

I’ll head out to the garden now. God help me. There’s another whole kingdom just waiting…

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

HeartBeats—Spiritual Being, Human Journey  https://amzn.to/2KvF3Ll

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd0z

Short Stories

It Might Have Been—And Other Short Stories https://amzn.to/2XXdDDz

Photo: https://pixabay.com/photos/woman-human-sensual-cave-mountain-4261102/

To See Another Day

Summer’s glory not,

Battles ever fought.

Garden seeds and springing weeds,

Speak of endless deeds.

Joy-filled fun,

Wearies under the blistering sun.

Insects buzz and bite,

Never a moment’s respite.

Yet dew-sparkled webs amid the grassy green,

Offer light-hearted beauty, joy in being.

Birds greet the sun, soak in glorious rays,

Encouraging buzzing bees—at the brink of day.

Dark gloom forgot,

As season’s blooms brought,

Vibrant color taught,

Old hearts in beauty caught.

Summer’s glory be,

The moon’s radiance see.

Fruits and fauns, yellow daffodils,

Invigorated limbs and nurtured wills.

Seasons pass through many a trial,

Growing life through every heart-filled mile.

Journey each we may,

Hope to see another day.

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00 

Real World Disconnect

Some people would say that we are more connected to the world than ever, but I wonder if this is really true. I heard a statistic this week that suicide is the third leading cause of death for teens. That tragic information made me pause. Why would teens, in a world full of options, choose to end their lives?

What are kids connected to? Or disconnected from? They are connected to the vast information web, they are connected to sound bytes, superficial relationships built on Facebook and Twitter, they are connected to pictures, images, and sounds, but too often, they’re disconnected to what is happening right in front of them.

What actually feeds us—spiritually and physically?  “You shall be known by your fruit….” I do not get fed by social media interactions. Even e-mail has its limitations. It’s not to say that these technological innovations don’t have their purpose and value. But it is to ask: “What are we crowding out when we engage in them to the exclusion of other forms of human communication and interaction?”

When I took my kids to the lake yesterday and they ran around watching the geese and ducks, sat and enjoyed the sun setting over the water, and played tag down a wooded path, they engaged in a real-world reality check. They absorbed a truth which cannot be improved upon. Joy and health seeped into their beings.

When I go outside and work in the garden, when I take a walk down a country road, when I sit and chat face-to-face with someone, even a stranger, I engage in a real-world reality that cannot be replaced by any technological gadget.

I wonder if that is why some television programs have become so weird. They are reflecting that absence, that disconnect, that xeroxed print, which has been copied too often and become anemic and a little warped in the process.

Perhaps what our teens need is a little more time with natural reality, not “reality” shows. Perhaps what some writers need is to reflect human beings and our real world, and not slapstick, word-bytes meant to get a laugh or jerk a tear.

Perhaps, reality isn’t meant to lead to suicide.

~~~

Mortality Among Teenagers Aged 12-19 Years: United States, 1999-2006. (2010). Retrieved February 20, 2016, from http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/databriefs/db37.htm

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Simple Summer

SimpleSummer2

I’m sitting outside on the back porch, while Merry, the cat—a poor injured stray we saved—is sitting at my feet doing what cats do…resting and checking out the world whenever the mood hits. The pine trees sway in a gentle breeze while white, fluffy clouds sail serenely overhead.  We’ve had a lot of rain lately, so everything is green and gorgeous. A red rose in a nearby pot practically glows against the backdrop of pine trees. Various summer flowers bloom in their summertime brilliance. Flies and bees and a little jumping spider have also made an appearance. The chicks, still in the brooder house waiting for their outdoor pen are running about, trying their wings as they learn that the ground cannot hold them bound.

The awesome beauty of this summer day, the chirping multitude: sparrows, red-wing blackbirds, robins, cardinals, and cooing doves, the laughter of young children at play, the haunting melody played by one of the girls at the piano, rustling waves of breezes cascading over the fields of corn and beans all work together, creating a pallet of beauty that any artist would envy.

When I considered what to write on my blog today, no words would come.  Yet as I sit here surrounded by simple summer, I find I do not need words—just eyes and ears and a heart willing to believe that this is real.

When the winter winds blow, the sky laden with grey clouds and the birds silenced in their nests, I will remember this day. The yellow buttercups, the red rose, the buzzing bees will live in my heart and imagination. Even in my dreams, I will remember this day, and no matter the clouds or the cold and the barren waste of winter, summer will yet live.

Books by A. K. Frailey

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend Novels

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter https://amzn.to/3iGqGlQ

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In Production)

OldEarth Melchior Encounter (In Production)

Science Fiction Novels

Last of Her Kind http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Short Stories

It Might Have Been—And Other Short Stories https://amzn.to/2XXdDDz

Encounter Science Fiction Short Stories & Novella https://amzn.to/3dq6q5l

Inspirational Non-Fiction

My Road Goes Ever On—Spiritual Being, Human Journey https://amzn.to/2KvF3Ll

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings https://amzn.to/3rtAy6S

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Photo https://pixabay.com/photos/background-beautiful-bloom-blossom-1587514/

Gardening Grace

GardeningGrace2

Gardens are like family: they demand attention; they can get out of hand real quick, yet they feed you in ways nothing else can. For all of my aches and pains, my dislike of getting muddy, and my squeamish attitude about bugs that live in colonies, I am willing, year after year, to start the garden over again. This year is no exception. Considering the work involved and the many family needs demanding my attention, I had to think long and hard about this particular vocation before I even got started. Is gardening really worth my time and effort? After all, I could buy almost everything I want at the grocery store. But in the end, I was converted toward the wholesome reality of a family garden by a few simple but profound truths.

#1 A garden draws me into the natural world far from technology.  With all of society’s advancements—it is good to get away from the computer screen and worldly concerns and reacquaint myself with the good earth. Plants and animals have been here a lot longer than our human-made tools and toys, and they still have something to say to me—if I dare to listen.

#2 Gardens demand a lot and give a lot. They require consistent effort. They force a person into a serious commitment of time, sweat, and occasional tears. If I don’t take care, weeds take over. If I don’t protect it, the garden will die. This simple reality reminds me of a basic truth in every important relationship: no love, no stewardship—no fruit.

#3 I know what goes into my garden, so I know what goes into me. This may seem paranoid but in a world of pesticides, herbicides, antibiotics for animals, and various other unknowns, I like to know what feeds the animals and plants which feed me. Cancer has struck too close to home to assume that every chemical remedy is a good one.

#4 There is a correlation to God as Creator and myself as a gardener.  When I plant a seed, I know it is His seed, I know He forms and shapes the life that comes from the seed, and I know that all the growing universe is His—but in my small world, I can cultivate a small part of it, making it orderly, beautiful and fruitful. When faced with international disasters, national worries, and personal struggles, it is no small comfort to enjoy God’s life in a garden—gardening grace—I call it. And so it is.

#5 My final reason is purely mercenary.  I enjoy knowing that I have stocked some food away for a rainy, stormy, or snowy day. I never know what the future will bring. Having a few jars of homemade jam, pickles, or salsa, some onions & herbs hanging in the kitchen, some frozen peppers, corn, squash, and pumpkin stocked in the freezer, makes my life a little more comfortable. Despite my aching back, my heart is at ease knowing my garden is there, waiting for me in the morning.

 

Books by A. K. Frailey

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend Novels

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter https://amzn.to/3iGqGlQ

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In Production)

OldEarth Melchior Encounter (In Production)

Science Fiction Novels

Last of Her Kind http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Short Stories

It Might Have Been—And Other Short Stories https://amzn.to/2XXdDDz

Encounter Science Fiction Short Stories & Novella https://amzn.to/3dq6q5l

Inspirational Non-Fiction

My Road Goes Ever On—Spiritual Being, Human Journey https://amzn.to/2KvF3Ll

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings https://amzn.to/3rtAy6S

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Photo https://pixabay.com/photos/vegetables-bio-fruit-tomatoes-4787141/