Even before the first dawning rays
of the morning sun crack the horizon,
they are there, on this later summer
morning - chipping sparrows, chirping
merrily away at the last vestiges of dark
night sky, imbuing the atmosphere with
brightly repetitive sound and a heightened
expectation of a most fair day ahead.
Chickadees, robins and cardinals are
soon to join the morning chorus, settling
on trees and shrubs in the garden, stemming
the operatic tide to venture into bird bath,
to search for grubs and insects among the
ripening plums and apples winkling from
laden backyard fruit-tree branches.
A small host of white butterflies drifts among
the rose mallow, the black-eyed Susans and
the huge-headed blossoms of the hydrangeas.
Monarch butterflies roost, wings slowly opening,
closing, on the cone flowerhead of echinacea.
Sparkling orange against flamboyant pink.
Green and blue, brilliant-bodied dragonflies
spin here and there in the garden. Wasps
hover covetously, possessively and dip into
our little dogs' water bowl. A cooling breeze
wafts the fragrance of rose and nicotiana
toward sensitively sensual gardeners taking
in this live theatre, the landscape of a garden.
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