No, wait. Look up toward the sky.
A large elm in Boston became known as the “Liberty Tree” because patriots often gathered there, from 1765 until loyalists cut it down in 1775.
The yard sign displayed in my post regarding No Kings 3.0 elicited two prompt and insightful comments (acknowledged at the end of this post). As my earlier post noted, I was uneasy about the sign’s assertion that fascism is “un-American” when far too many Americans are fascists or their enablers. In one important sense of the word [un-American], however, the sign’s assertion is still true and still worth declaring with fierce simplicity on Memorial Day (rather than with details that cannot fit in a readable yard sign).
As was true last year, Memorial Day this year is a time to fly the flag while calling out American fascists because they desecrate the memory of those who died to defend American values against a succession of tyrannies, from taxation w/o representation to slavery to 20-th century fascism to communism to 21-st century fascism to whatever abominations may lie ahead.
The color called “lilac” in CSS is a light purple, with equal amounts of red and blue. (The buds on this bush were a magenta, with a good deal more red than blue.) Eleven days later, this bush was almost done for the year. It looked like the flowers had indeed been lilac when fully open and were fading to lavender and then white.
Snow-laden branches,
sagging under cold wet weight.
But they will rebound.
Thriving on cold air,
icicles defy hot sun
(from a safe distance).
falling when not held.
Leaves still bright grace roads and lawns;
they danced to distant wind chimes.
Leaves still green.
Intrepid seed wings
lead the way.
Leaves drop one by one,
each with a story to tell.
But can we listen?
With more shades of green
than I can easily count,
trees hail Labor Day.
Reach up to the sun?
Not that far, just far enough.
Photosynthesis
Red maples flower
and greet returning warmth with
rubies in the sky.
Big and little stones
could lean on each other for
mutual support.
Soon after solstice,
angry year nears end with hope:
“Peace on Earth, Good Will …”
Early morning sunlight can make a frosted window (or clean snow) sparkle like myriad tiny diamonds. I have tried and failed to photograph that look. Editing one recent try produced an image that struck me as interesting and subtly hopeful, appropriate for a Xmas greeting after a grueling year.
Mellow Curmudgeon 