Berried

Not much time for knitting or blogging this week. I'm a little buried by sermons and meetings and laundry. Oh my.

I'll leave you with these pictures from our front yard (and a poem not from our front yard), just in case you're not buried. Berried. Either way.

Lantana berries.

Poke Berry berries.

Nandina berries.

Berries from the plant with giant leaves whose name I can never remember. Actually, these are the flowers, but the berries will be there soon, and the birds will love them as always!

Crepe Myrtle berries.

Woods, by Wendell Berry

I part the out thrusting branches

and come in beneath

the blessed and the blessing trees.

Though I am silent

there is singing around me.

Though I am dark

there is vision around me.

Though I am heavy

there is flight around me.