My favorite days start with a dawn walk around 555. I join the bees and butterflies in their first explorations. Birds sing and squawk. The morning unfolds itself with a sensory overload.
Today, the scent in the mist was heavenly. The huge osmanthus along our driveway is starting to bloom. Its tiny orange flowers are opening where sun touches the top of the tree and over the next day or two, it will erupt into its full glory. I will set aside time on Friday to harvest what I can reach so that I can capture the scent in a syrup.
That wasn’t the only sweet smelling flower this morning; the white ginger behind the house is also in bloom. I am grateful to the whichever Kawasaki family member decided to plant these.
The cotton rose was also a hive of activity with moths drinking nectar, caterpillars chomping leaves, and a new surprise. I think this rolled up leaf contains ladybug instars. There were several rolls and they were hard to peep into but I am pretty sure we’ll have a healthy crop of ladybugs or some sort of insect soon.
Not everything was delightful this morning. I felt disappointment, fear, and grief, too.
I stepped out at 4:45 to determine if we’d have a lucky view to Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS, but the eastward horizon is blocked by a mountain. I will have to drive to the beach to see it, I think. Hmmm. I snapped a nice southward photo of Orion, Jupiter and Mars.
The tea camellia is blooming its funny upside down flowers that I tried to capture with the morning sun’s golden glow lighting them. But I was interrupted by the B-52 hum of a Giant Asian Hornet and I hightailed it out of there. I’m not much scared of insect, but those thumb-sized mofos give me anxiety.
And finally, I found the carcass of the enormous Huntsman spider that we’ve been admiring over the summer. She was glorious. I hope she found a safe place for her eggsac before she died.
So goes nature and life. Everything is a balance here. We get daily delight and daily grief. I wouldn’t have it any other way.