Sunday, August 26, 2007

morning tribute to the heavy footed ooters


i was out gathering tomatoes...my arms were full so i was making my way back to the house. a green glimmer caught my eye, it was our resident hummingbird flitting about the bright red spikes of the maroon canna....the special one....the ratty leftover bulb that i had discovered only after fully planting our regular bed and giving away the remaining 2 boxes of bulbs.

it was small, half rotted and very close to being pitched into the compost pile. instead it was slipped into the dip of ground that covered my dear old booters. my kitty of 15 years, chub bubs and constant companion...he was a talker..and not just prittle prattle..he had real things to say and expressed himself well.

down with the maters, i shaded my eyes from the morning sun and continued to watch the hummer for a spell. with quick darts among the spikes of our largest canna he gathered nectar from the one plant whose roots embraced the remains of tangible talk.

the fellow peed while in mid flight simultaneously with a tear falling from my cheek... his extracted moisture fell and mixed with the dew on the canna...mine simply slipped to the ground.

i guess, just an early morning reminder...i still love you, ever silent, utsenhoff.