Sourwood Sunday with Swallowtail

Did you know that woodpeckers whine? I didn't either. This morning I was sitting on my deck soaking in the morning shade and semi-coolness before the heat of the day chased me inside. Close at hand, two woodpeckers whined.

I found one in the chestnut oak to my right. There it was, a Downy on a limb. Whining. Dude was looking right at me until he lost interest. Then he attacked the thick bark with his thorn beak, sending it flying.

The other was in front of me, hiding behind a veil of leaves. Whining. I spied her when she hopped on the trunk and hammered away. From her looks she was a Hairy Woodpecker. Interesting that both subspecies would whine.

The cicadas are chorusing. I had forgotten what it was like to live in the south and and experience their rhythmic song. Last week I started taking the time each day to just sit, close my eyes and let my body feel the the sound of the cicadas singing the earth's rhythm.

A couple of weeks ago I noticed scores of butterflies partaking of a blossoming sourwood tree about fifty yards from our deck. The sourwoods have been blooming for weeks and are waning. This lady still blooms, though the blossoms are fewer. So are the butterflies, mostly tiger swallowtails. They flutter then light, clinging to blooms that curl forward to receive, like hands in supplication.

Eric, in answer to your question, this is one way I create. I sit still, I watch, I listen. I hear. I feel. I see. When I'm feeling, senses engaged, the voices cease and my head quiets.

I let my mind be quiet. Or wander if it wants to.

I be.

Now for some pictures of me be-ing yesterday.

This is me.

Sun kissed.

Be-ing.

Somewhere down that lazy River.

The Chestatee outside of Dahlonega.

Floating on a 'catamarran'.

With an oar.

Spinning stories in my head.

My two companions, Carolyn and Beau. Waiting patiently on moi.  

There were five turtles just before I snapped this, but one plopped off in to the water.

Notice how muddy the water is? We had heavy rain, two days in a row. The water is about two feet higher than usual.

It was a leisurely float, no real paddling other than to steer. Several class one rapids of the pre-K variety. Two class two. Maybe first grade. Nothing more strenuous.

Just a lazy be-ing day.

This looks like a black swallowtail, only it has no tails. So hmm...Anyone know?

She was hanging out on a sandy beach along the way.

We stopped here to stretch.

And eat an apple.

She graciously shared her beach.

This is Bugsy under my 'new' wicker thrift store chair this morning. He's always in to just Be-ing.

This song was stuck in my head as we floated down the river. I had never seen this video. My my. Would you stand in line for a kiss like this?

And who knew Robbie was such a hunk?