No bigger than my thumb, in pale green dresses, they rise,

tiny fireworks, each with dainty charcoal feet,

sea-green helmets, brisk metallic tails. 


These evocative words by poet Mary Oliver describe young hummingbirds as they burst from their mossy nest.  I think of her poem when I watch my own avian acrobats draw perfect circles in the air and then, with a jerk, pause in front of me.

Hummingbirds symbolize the celebration of life, hope, and joy as well as an appreciation for every moment. Did you know that they’re one of the most popular bird tattoos?

Last time I went to the beach, I marveled at the tsunami of ink. Everyone is inked up except moi

Are you sporting ink? Thinking about it?   

Toni 7/16/13

“Like the gentle raindrops your words fell in the air Making things so clear as we quietly sat there…” (Kate Wolf’s “Trumpet Vine Grows in My Kitchen Window”) It’s Taken 45 Years, But Now I Have Not One But Two Trumpet Vines. They’re Not In the Kitchen Window–Yet–But They’re Beautiful. And I’m Grateful.

The trellises have done their magic. My dream of having trumpet vines bookend our deck and Tuscany-villa-like tuck us away from the madding crowd, that dream, er, inkling of an idea? It’s happened. I have a profusion of vine and myriad buds at the tips of the branches that promise a zillion trumpet flowers. See below. Singer Kate Wolf* introduced Jack and me to this wondrous vine. I’ve included the lyrics to her song. Kate died way too young, so we don’t have a lot of footage of her actually singing this song. But I’m hunting. PATTYtrumpet vine*http://katewolfmusicfestival.com/index.php/about-us/about-kate-wolf


The Trumpet Vine

Words and Music by Kate Wolf

The trumpet vine grew in the kitchen window

And bloomed bright orange on the wall

You sat in the morning light, holding a guitar

As the first summer rain began to fall

Like the gentle raindrops

your words fell in the air

Making things so clear

as we quietly sat there

It reminded me of other times you had come before

And brought a song or just walked in through the kitchen door

Now it seems the truest words I ever heard from you

Were said at kitchen tables we have known

‘Cause somehow in that warm room, with coffee on the stove,

Our hearts were really most at home

Sitting at a table

looking hard at you

Catching up on stories

of the things we’d tried to do

It seems we really said the most when we didn’t talk at all

Let the songs speak for us like the sunlight on the wall

Now as we come and go, in sunshine and in rain

Some years are seen more clearly than the rest

And if it weren’t for kitchen songs and mornings spent with friends

We all might lose the things we love the best

I can see you sitting there

beneath the trumpet vine

The sunlight through the window

in the kitchen in my mind

You came when you were needed, I could not ask for more

Than to turn to find you walking through the kitchen door

© 1977 Another Sundown Publishing Company