Trees Are My Friends

As our good friend Carl mentioned, part of the barn tree might be salvaged. 

It feels good seeing a new tree planted. The newest one was planted with human intention. Long ago, the barn tree may have come from a bird dropping a digestive tract-activated seed into welcoming dirt next to the barn. The old tree has been special, and still is.

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We're nearing the end of August. Our deciduous trees that have so many shades of green in springtime, then deeper summer greens, that now begin to change color as our days are shortening and fall nears us here in the Northern Hemisphere.

Out my living room window...

In the center, the smaller tree(s) the last couple of days show a bit of yellow.

A closer look.

I was curious how and what makes the leaves change colors in the Fall. Here's an excellent, plain explanation: Science of Fall Colors | US Forest Service. 

Many thanks to our US Forest Service and to Science.

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Today, we have an Art Part thanks to my art and blog buddy, as we reach out in our ways to strengthen each other and help us all move forward in positive directions...

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August 26 was Women's Equality Day. It commemorates the 1920 certification of the 19th Amendment to the Constitution of the United States. Women, half the population, won the right to vote 105 years ago. Thank you, Suffragettes! 

Faithfully yours in Good Trouble. --JM

Doodads

The blank screen stares at me...

Maybe I'll float a little while

Perhaps I'll daydream a smile

Hmmm...I see something...

Doodads

Da doodads say

doo dis

doo dat

dis and dat

dis and dat

disses and dats 

go out of whack

I lose track

of da disses and dats

dangling here, dare

and everywhere

Is dis a dat?

Or is dat a dis?

Dey pain my brain

when I search in vain

for da answers are not dare

because doodads doo not care

if dis is 

da dis

or if dat

is da dat 

so put on da thinking cap

and doo da disses

and doo da dats

and soon it's lotsa fun

doing dis

and doing dat

until da doodads 

are all done

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Waging Aging: Now deep into my 80s, every bathroom is an opportunity.

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The way I’d like to go on living in this world wouldn’t hurt anything, I’d just go on walking uphill and downhill, looking around, and so what if half the time I don’t know what for— so what if it doesn’t come to mean a hill of beans. —Mary Oliver

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