…my camera brought to me,
Eight buds a-bursting.
Anticipation. My yard is full of it in the form of these hopeful swelling buds. Each one is a neat and tidy little package, a ticking time bomb hiding the splendid explosion that’s about to happen. I await the event eagerly, sometimes checking twice a day on my favorites. And then I savor the miracles that come.
These are the fulfillments of my gardening hopes and dreams, the reward for all the dirt under my fingernails, for all the times my back ached from bending over to pull weeds and my neck got burned by the sun.

Anticipation and its reward are very sweet.
“Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day–and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.” (2 Timothy 4:8)
In case you missed them, here are the first day, second day, third day, fourth day, fifth day, sixth day and seventh day!
Whether the calendar says so or not, the last day of August always seems like the last day of summer to me—and seeing that always makes me kind of sad. Nothing against fall or even the coming winter, mind you. I truly love the changing seasons. It’s just that summer in Minnesota is somehow just a little briefer than the other seasons, and I never quite manage to get in all the swimming and fresh peaches on ice cream that I want to before it’s time to pull out the sweaters and hot cocoa again.

Red is for ripe wild strawberries discovered along fence rows, sweet and warm with sunshine…

Orange is for a monarch butterfly, minutes old, clinging trustingly to my wide-eyed daughter’s finger…

Yellow is for the elegant beards of irises…

Green is for sun-dappled woodland ferns…

Blue is for swan families floating on riffles of water…

Purple is for brilliant masses of fireweed…