Day 6ix …. Wild in the Aisle.

I have been making quite a few odd mistakes recently, the extreme heat and humidity I believe has been a big player in this term of events.

Once again, my extremely scrambled cerebellum certainly let me down big time earlier today. I thought I noticed a character from my past pushing a shopping trolley around our local branch of Saino’s, some of you may remember from a previous blog, [the big rotund lady with carrot red hair and green finger nails]?. Thinking to myself … after ten years, perhaps I should go and say my thank-you to her, after all she helped me cross all my remaining tee’s and dotted the few i’s i had left in my life at that particular time. I wanted to show her just how well I was and how far that I had come.

Todays society dictates, or it should, in general show a manner of professionalism, honesty and being polite. As I approached *her* I started to falter, was this to be a good idea?  After all, she was a Magistrate, and this was her private time, would she be offended if I broached the subject as I was once, a pile of correspondence in a folder tied with a silk ribbon, as were many of her other cases.  So, In true style and with great aplomb I sidled up to her like a panther, and just as the handsome inquisitive Professor Sycamore would have, I politely asked “Excuse me Madam, I am so sorry to bother you, but is your surname (smith), I think i recognise you?

Bearing in mind, my Mother used to have ‘a certain look’ that she gave me, especially if I had done something wrong, or shut me up before I was about to open my mouth at the wrong moment in time. She did an extremely good impression of Kaa the snake with those spinning hypnotic eyes.

So, here I am, metaphorically speaking, picking myself up off the floor after being power shunted into the shelves, almost as if an evil force had been protecting the invisible cape on the Aerodactyl from a sacred level in a PokémonGo game.

From the look on her face and how the word “NO” was expelled from her mouth, and the venom attached, I can only believe that she was incognito and had realised her identity had now been blown. She knew I was aware it was her.  As I watched her depart, the mist gently cleared from around her feet, she seemed to float over the terrazzo flooring as if on a cloaked hover-board. Holding onto the shopping cart with one hand and whilst certain items on the shelves were jumping into the cart as if committing suicide, my suspicions were confirmed when I saw the wand in her other as the silver tip glistened under the fluorescent light and the shadow of the invisible bats, as they flew about her head.

Q, What has this to do with a picture of my wild flower garden?

A, Anything that looks wild, leave well alone.

 

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Day 3hree …. The Bird’s Nest Fern

DSCF1015.jpgThis Birds Nest Fern should really be growing high up in a tree, or so I read from my Wikipedia site and I tend to believe the information quite seriously. My rock garden follows my steps down to the road, situated on a gravel bed with boulders and falls a gradient of approximately forty degrees. The site faces North and only receives the late summers evening sun and the water from the down pipe off of the roof.

I’ve been watching this plant grow steadily and have had no desire to remove or destroy. Why should I? After all, this is another of natures miracles. Located between two huge boulders, it has tunneled a way out from the damp and darkness seeking a light source. If I wasnt so sure as to its actual species, I would of considered it not too dissimilar to a long leaved iceberg lettuce or even a seaweed plant.

The latter which has clambered up the cliff face in desperation to seek a sex partner, to mutate as seaweed does, often, on a regular basis …   Allegedly, Scientists, whilst looking through a microscope describe it as “a bit like a nightclub scene” <grins> I bet you didn’t know that? … (I certainly didn’t)

Reads more like an abandoned paragraph from ‘Alice in Wonderland’  I wonder if Charles Dodgson had considered that?

 

 

Day 0ne ….. Where the Wild Roses Grow

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This is where the Wild Rose grows, she hangs precariously over a dilapidated rotting wooden fence, and desperately reaches toward the sun and follows its path of light.  Nature steadily inhales carbon dioxide from the atmosphere through her pores, the beautiful petals and the stamen. The leaves and stem yearn for its energy and even as far down to the roots in the form of photosynthesis. This marvel of nature gives her such strength and beauty which in turn gives us more oxygen for us to breathe.  A sadness hangs alongside these blooms that give a tainted perfume and make the world look bright, fruit brambles try to strangle the growth of this wonderful creation, and the ever rampant Honeysuckle attempts to squeeze every ounce of energy out of her it can.  She never gives up, no matter how hard life is for her, she still appears each Summer, spreading her ever lustful tendrils and radiates her cerise blooms with pride like a Tafeta bustle on a Victorian dress. I admire, and tell her to enjoy the miracle that is the sunshine whilst you can, although summer is not finished yet, try to hold on tightly to your elegance as it gently fades, just like we fade with age too. Unlike us, you will be beautiful again, and that wont be long as this named season will soon return.

~~~~ O ~~~~

‘On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow, the wind was as light as a thief               I kissed her goodbye, I said, “All beauty must die”

Exracted from “Where the Wild Roses Grow”  ….  Nick Cave 1996.