by
Jean Hughes
June 17, 1996
Summer is humming. Bumblebees, butterflies and bunnies congregate along my roadside, nipping and sipping from sweet clovers and scrumptious new grasses. My bluebirds whirl back and forth between the field and the electric wires, as I walk down my lane.

I am listening to the morning twilight-talk of the birds. They speak most sweetly both morning and evening as I wait for that moment between time when the light of day and the light of night wink by each other.

Back in my dooryard, a goldfinch gives his wiry whistle, and then calls with all his might his shrill, "Baybee, baybee, baybee."

In the bluebird box, skin, bones and beaks are crammed into the tiny nest. They are here! Born to life on earth! Song, color and flight awaits them, but the miracle of life on earth is already theirs. They are each a special bluebird, and have been given the great gift of a part in our natural wonderland

This morning, I can smell wild strawberries, but when I stop to pick them I find only a few. The wildlings have been here; birds, rabbits, furry four-legged creatures and two young humans.

I walk among Deptford pinks, blue-eyed grass, daisy fleabanes, yarrow and cinquefoil. Finding no berries is forgotten among all this beauty.

The sun is hot and the air is humid, but the wind is kind. A light breeze makes the day not only tolerable, but pleasant. I munch a sweet, wild onion and take the long way home.

As I walk into my yard, a female hummingbird sips from as orchid iris. My old-fashioned rose bends in the breeze. Chris is about his favorite occupation, cutting the grass. He thinks he keeps the wild at bay, but the beautiful wildflowers creep closer and closer to my house every year.

So far this year, the roadsides have been left uncut. Except for corners where drivers need to be able to see, I love it when the roadsides are left wild for the birds and bunnies, and other small creatures.


There is great joy in learning to do anything. We sometimes forget that joy is the reward for becoming aware. I am a self-taught cook, and I do enjoy the challenge and creativity of cooking, baking and devising new recipes.

Strawberry Torte
Beat until stiff: 3 egg whites.
Gradually add: 1 cup sugar, beating to stiff peaks.
Fold in: 1/2 cup coconut and 20 finely crushed saltines.
Pour into an ungreased 8 by 8 inch pan.
Bake at: 350o for 30 minutes. Cool in pan.
Meanwhile, thaw and bring to boiling: 10 oz. frozen strawberries.
Stir in: 1 T. cornstarch mixed with 2 T. water.
Return mixture to boiling and boil 1 minute. Cool.
Soften 3 oz. cream cheese and spread over cool tart.
Top with cool strawberry glaze. Cover with plastic wrap and 
refrigerate until serving time.

This morning, as I sit typing, I see a male bluebird, a pair of baltimore orioles, a great-crested flycatcher, goldfinches and a pair of robins. A redstart stops in the top of a dead tree, a barn swallow swoops through the yard and a buzzard swings low.

Although I have not moved from my chair, and I look through a small window, all this beauty has found me within a few minutes. My life is filled with the usual and the unusual because I finally accepted the gift of paying attention.

* * *
As I walk this afternoon, although multitudes of small creatures are on the wing, I see how little of life shows itself to the human eye. Most birds and many flowers are hidden, and thousands of insects are never seen and have ways of life that are not completely understood.

Hidden beneath the green, or underground, is a life more varied than that which we see. It is as mysterious and as far away from our understanding as the stars, but without it we could not exist upon this planet. However, it does give us signs. All we have to do is take the time to look.

There is one flower that does not hide. It has a golden heart and pristine white petals. It creeps through the fields and out onto the unshorn roadsides to give its beauty to all who pass. It is the oxeye daisy.

Daisy Days
          Summer is here.
           I walk through daisy days.
           Life gathers round
           To share joys left from spring.
           Merriest forms of life
           Touch me and cling.
           Summer is here.
           I walk through daisy days.
Copyright 1996, Jean Hughes.

Jean's book of ramblings and recipes "A Country Mile of Winter" and her book of poetry "The Earth's My Home" are available for $4.95 each plus $1.30 for postage and handling. Ten of Jean's favorite recipes will be included free with each book ordered. Order from...

Country Mile Publications
616 E. Monroe
Delphi, IN 46923

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