June 4, 2025

Meditated on the back porch last night until the stars came out. The Big Dipper hangs directly over my garden. 

The chorus of cicadas softens. Bits of them, wings, hollowed out bodies, severed heads, lie everywhere. Every other spadeful of dirt while I’m gardening buries a body. 

Flickers gathering ants (I suppose) from the grass. One stopped every now and them to feed the other– father still doing his job even after the chick is fully his size. 

Three days now of quite heavy gardening, today the least of them, but still, progress. Fiddled with the pond.