I’m behind on my spring cleaning; already I know my summer plans are way too ambitious. Still I’m feeling as gay as a character in a Broadway musical. That’s because my roses are in bloom, a sunny choreography of lavender, burgundy, coral, pink, and cream. Their names are like treasures from afar: Pearl Essence, Moon Shadow, Angel Face, Double Delight. Even the solitary Ole beside the garage shouts when I drive up, “Dance a little!” Mornings I bring my books and journal into the middle of it all, but can hardly write or read. My 401K has shrunk to nothing. I can’t afford college for my son. Still, around my roses, I recall the lines from a Mary Oliver poem: In this world I am as rich / as I need to be.
June’s Full Moon has long been called the “Rose Moon”–for obvious reasons.
hi dana~i hear ya! this afternoon raimund, my parnter and i put our 401ks and IRAs together. my oh my, we’d better become pretty savvy old people, that’s all i have to say. but for some odd reason, which is not like the usual worry wort, i just laughed. and then recalled a lovely quote: when fishermen cannot go out to sea, they mend their nets. we’re all mending our nets, taking a collective deep breath and making adjustments we can, and taking time to enjoy the lavender, the roses, the the lillies. i think often of the ancestors and draw strength knowing what they lived through. may the ancestors draw closer for all of us!