In Maine, early June brings many delights, but few are as beautiful as a field full of lupines. Every year, I look forward to their tall purple and pink spikes in the deep green grass. Lupines look lovely in gardens, but to me they are best in masses, in a field.
Here is a closer look. It doesn’t hurt to have some yellow buttercups in the mix, either.
Closer to home, in my gardens, everything is thriving. The hostas, not yet chewed to green lace by snails and slugs, are thriving and whole.
The chives are nearly in bloom. I like their spiky pinkness.
On a sadder note, yesterday we sprinkled Liam’s ashes in the backyard that he loved so much, by the ferns by the fence. We have a memorial bench in honor of my mother, Clif’s mother, our previous dog Seamus, and now Liam. The Buddha was purchased in memory of Clif’s mother, who was drawn to Buddhism. The cat was for my mother, who had a special fondness for these independent creatures. Now we need a stone dog to complete the set. A collie, if we can find one. We figure that will be close enough to a Sheltie. (Seamus was a Sheltie, too.)
This bench does not make our backyard a morbid place. Far from it. Instead, it is a place of peace and delight, where the memories of those we have loved come to visit us. They are always nearby.