Just checking, by Britta Benson

Just checking

Nature is up to mischief so close to the summer solstice,

and I’m on high alert. Trouble flares when two birds on the

highest branch negotiate the state of their relationship.

In broad daylight! Oblivious to who might listen in to their

noisy disputes. Beneath them, darkened ferns wake up

and stretch, uncurl their languid souls in the shade of trees

so unashamedly tall they tickle the blushing sky, their greedy

sap already revved in joyful anticipation. The grass, stippled

with stars made of daisies, roots for winners and losers alike.

Coy flower heads suddenly burst open almost against their

will and then dutifully nod and bow to the sun. Curtsies follow.

This open invitation whispers through the soil and spreads

with the sneaky murmurs of snails. I watch and take notes,

seated, in my garden chair, a silent witness, just checking.

Britta Benson

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