It’s a warm day in the city, but not as warm as the day before. A breeze blows benignly. A bird sings a new song. A fish jumps in a local lake. A cicada buzzes on nearby tree. They are the sounds that I look forward too every year while enduring the depths of winter.
Monday mornings are calm at the gardens around the city, as most people make their way to air-conditioned office buildings. While they breath in their recycled air, I breath in the scents of petunias, lilies, and roses. Everything is green now, as the summer flowers give splashes of pinks, oranges, yellows, and purples. I listen as a rabbit hops out for under a rose-bush, its escape likely since I have no desire to give chase.
Leaves of yellow and shades of green draw me in close, hypnotizing me with their calming patterns. Symmetrical and asymmetrical at the same time, my mind plays tricks as if they were a Rorschach test. I’m convinced Caladium leaves are narcissists, adding pink and white to their faces to gain the attention of others.
A spider web hangs loosely over a pond, accepting summers gifts in the form of unsuspecting insects. The thin skeleton of string reflects in the sunlight, but its master is nowhere to be found. The spider lays in wait for its next prey, hidden in shadow.
Elsewhere, a butterfly rests on a leaf. It cannot hide in shadow. The wings made of blues and oranges stand out in a sea of green. There is no mistaking what it is. Its agile flight is gentle and whimsical. The most delicate of winged creatures, the patterns on its flying apparatus remind me once more of a Rorschach test. Perhaps this garden plays mind tricks on me today.
As I wander aimlessly, something I do so rarely, I happen across some orchids. Brassia orchids, with their green spots and yellow petals. Their scent invades my nostrils with the best of intentions, only to make me sneeze. Sneaky orchids, sending pollen my way. Perhaps they, too, work against me. I know I sound mildly crazy, but would you rather I quote songs about summer lovin’ and having me a blast? It would happen so fast (sorry, I had to), me delving into that depth of madness. So, I’ll spare you anymore quotes from John Travolta musicals and leave you to enjoy your Summer Solstice. It truly is a beautiful day for it.
Becky Tyler Art and Photography 
It’s a warm day in the city, but not as warm as the day before. A breeze blows benignly. A bird sings a new song. A fish jumps in a local lake. A cicada buzzes on nearby tree. They are the sounds that I look forward too every year while enduring the depths of winter.
Elsewhere, a butterfly rests on a leaf. It cannot hide in shadow. The wings made of blues and oranges stand out in a sea of green. There is no mistaking what it is. Its agile flight is gentle and whimsical. The most delicate of winged creatures, the patterns on its flying apparatus remind me once more of a Rorschach test. Perhaps this garden plays mind tricks on me today.
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