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Of Cabbages And Content

I've lost count of the number of times I've opened up this blog trying to write something that will read with a small measure of eloquence and be of interest to you. It's not easy.

Scrolling through the numerous images I've taken, choosing some, deleting others...wondering which photos you might like to see...and yet each time I close the screen and leave...

cabbage moth on purple blossom

I've been trying to write this blog post in between moving the sprinkler every 20 minutes during our watering time and fighting the white cabbage moths. Those fluttery white ones that are focused on laying as many eggs as possible among the previously pristinely beautiful and dusty coated leaves of my cabbages. 

Those eggs hatch into translucent green caterpillars born with a voracious appetite for cabbage and are making coleslaw out of my purple babies.

If you blog you know that the blank screen is as demoralizing as a blank canvas is to an artist. It multiplies and increases day by day, becoming so large that it seems impossible to mar the surface.

It's started to give off an air of neglect, like my favourite turquoise runners which have been sitting in the hallway lonely, and ignored for most of our hot summer days.

It's easier to not write, or to go out and exercise, instead to aimlessly wander through the garden. Clicking the camera button in the breathtaking and brutally hot weather. And to tell myself  that....

"Summer's fleeting beauty hides among the blossoms and must be captured before it leaves the season."

It's been 36 C ...with a blistering hot sun shining down on us, undeterred by clouds. It's hot enough to burn bare skin leaving you tingling in an unpleasant manner for ages after coming back into the relative cool of the house.

All that extra light has a bad side to it, it's too much to bear at night. No one sleeps in the heat...we wake up at 4 am and get up at 5.

Much too early.

But the days are wildly beautiful, lush and overgrown, filled with a rainbow of blossoms, and sunsets the colors and haze reminiscent of childhood summers. 

Yesterday I broke through the wall of neglect and like a runner who bursts through the banner at the end of a marathon...whoosh...I got up early and grabbed my bike.

Riding the sun drenched country roads, bike wheels turning, camera in one hand as I rode, trying to capture the morning before the heat set in. Birds chirping, the breeze on my skin, and's enough to make anyone feel content.

It also makes me want to write more about sharing and noticing the small things on @ruralmagazine our Instagram feed talking about the early green leaf that bade goodbye to the tree and falls fluttering from the overhead branch. The way the wind and thunderstorm from the other night flattened patterns of grain in the farmer's field. The cawing of crows and ravens as they fight for territory diving against each other in harmony echoed in the shining blue sky.

green trees reflected in a bike mirror

I want to share that sense of shock I still get over the glimpse of a deer startled by the sound of my bike tires as they rotate on the bumpy road. How that blur of movement into the trees makes me feel so exhilarated during the morning's silent ride...

Those are the things that make Rural tick...small moments, a journalling of days, a record of the changes the garden goes through. A sense of wonder when an unusual feather is found or a new blossom bursts open.

It will take more than a hot summer to stop me from noticing them and sharing that beauty.

Enjoy the warm summer days. 

Excited to share that I'm celebrating 10 years as a blogger... it's been a long and interesting journey, full of fun, and friends, I'd like to thank all of you who have been and are part of my online world.

Jen @ Rural Magazine


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