I love sketching little doodles from life as I do them. In the summer, however, I barely get a chance to note what is going on much less doodle about it.
I gave myself an hour this afternoon to backfill the calendar with some doodles.
How do I know these are my favorite watercolor pencil colors? They are stubby compared to all the others. The shortest? Orange. I never would have thought orange would be it…not actually my favorite color.
It was a weekend of reflection. Mostly I thought about my grandparents, two generations of them, who were in the service or lived through two World Wars. What they had experienced in their lifetimes, and the goals they accomplished, families they had, and how it all seems to be falling apart.
It really isn’t directly dire at the moment, but as in all relationships, people must put forth an effort to be united in common goals. There must be a feeling of communion to establish and maintain a community. It is a precarious thing, and once ruined will be very hard to recapture.
So I weeded parts of my garden. I used to be able to wiz around the whole yard and have it done in a day. Now it gets done in stages so my back does complain too much…it still complains.
I sat down to draw flowers, and there are some pretty ones out there right now. The seeds were more my speed though…their dogged effort to establish something new.
A far more knowledgeable garden told me in a lecture (or on TV) that everything the plant needs to germinate is contained within the seed. It just needs to land in a spot conducive to germination in order to grow.
People are just as plainly tied to this lifecycle. They will flourish where they are born, but the conditions have to be conducive to supporting life…not just birth.
There were plenty of maple seeds that landed on my driveway and were swept up into a container to go to the composting facility. There was an entire forest in my driveway.