this weekend i got to spend two and a half days in new york city.  taxi tires hammering cobblestone streets, suvs honking the minute the light turns green, the smell of fish sauce, pizza crust, espresso, and masa harina, police sirens, boom boom cars, foreign languages, foreign accents, american accents, shouts, laughter, sales pitches, and sore feet. i am energized and exhausted both. this morning i was back on my familiar walk, on the rice creek regional trail, with my dog.  i heard an oriole, saw bluebirds, goldfinches, and ospreys, listened to the clickety clickety of Jack’s toenails, and smelled wet soil.  i love both these places.  but if i had to choose only one, forever, i would choose the latter.  and it is only in the last few years that i have come to understand this about myself. i turned 49 a week ago today.

a bouquet of may greenery

rice creek regional trail, saint paul, minnesota

we just got home from a guerilla family run to nyc.  we were welcomed home by the mini drama above playing out on our kitchen window. quite a different reception from the noisy hipster welcome we had received three nights earlier at the front desk of the ace hotel at 29th and broadway.  to capture the frog/moth standoff, i had my husband stand outside, under the flood light, holding a sheet of white paper, and i shot the photo through the window.  the moth was attracted to the light.  the frog was attracted to the moth.  to end any uncomfortable suspense, the moth got away.

tree frog and moth

saint paul, minnesota

i love white pine.  it one of the trees that defines our northern forests. if i am in a place that has lots of healthy, mature white pines, then things are probably okay.

new growth candles on a white pine branch

saint paul, minnesota

i found this little friend in the kitchen skylight, exhausted from trying to escape our house through a quarter inch of solid plexiglass. i took him outside to let him go, but first snapped a shot for STILL.  he was an uncooperative subject.

bumblebee

saint paul, minnesota

everyone needs friends who are always there when you need them, and who don’t ask for much. no drama, no neediness. a low maintenance presence thriving over there in the shade. everyone, in other words, needs a little hosta. i love my hostas, which, in addition to all of the above, almost never invite me to join facebook, or forward me links to cat videos.

variegated hosta

saint paul, minnesota