July 19, 2018, 10:28:53 PM by Lipinski
Planted 26 mulberry tree's today. Got a great deal on them as they were potted and most about 3' tall with lots of leaves. Paid $4.95 each. A local family owned business called, Fiddle Creek is an awesome place to do business. They sell everything as they are fully stocked hardware store, and greenhouse, and orchard, and cattle, and sheep, and kids running around like ants, and baskets woven from grass created in Africa, and huckleberry pie, and a whole lot of good stuff to include one of my current favorites...pickles and pickled garlic. A local guy named, 'Smiley' does the pickling which is so good that after finishing the contents I drink the pickle juice like a glass of water.
Anyway, taking the tree's out of the pots the roots said, "Thank you!" as they were bunched up and ready to be planted.
You raise a good point about the staining. When I was eating the fruit the other day they were so ripe (and sooooo damn good!)
the soft fruit oozed purple juice and covered my hands. This got me to thinking there might be coloration uses for the fruit. It would be fun to write poetry on parchment or cloth with mulberry juice.
Did some more research and see the juice is good to protect the heart and liver while also helping stave off cancers.
And what the mulberry tree really did for me is to show that there are some great things that help one to survive in this world. So, it was a great surprise to 'discover' a fruit and tree I've never paid attention to before. Thus, the inspiration. Learning is an activity that never stops as one journeys through life.
***
Discovery
Walking past the penny sitting cast upon the sidewalk
Swept aside by the busy broom
Stepped past by busy feet
a busy
busy
busy world above, around, and beneath.
Alone, tarnished, covered in dirt and debris
while all around, and around, and around
round
round
round
laying there, forgotten
down
on
the ground.
She was forgotten, sad, grieving, alone
while around her
a busy world above, around and beneath
holding onto sadness of corrosion, dirt, dust,
like the penny forgotten
on the ground.
Walking with tears on her way to die
a word going by what they called, suicide
...
As her feet moved slow, being passed by a busy world with busy needs
Faster than anything she could want or need
her eyes seeing blackness, barren trees, and a path ending the speed
Stumbling a bit to where she fell, skinning her knee
Waking to real pain with a cry, her fingers curling around
a penny.
Picking up, getting up, and looking at what she held
a lonely, dirty, forgotten penny, one she had once before
seen.
A gift from a fair so many years ago, one where her father placed a quarter into a slot
along with a penny
A whir and gur and then, the penny was flattened and stamped
a loving memory to remember her father who died the next week.
He was her life at that very young age and in her grief she had lost the gift
such a simple thing
and from then the journey was painful as she grew alone in a foster home
without hope
not even love
nor the penny.
With tears of joy now falling, a parting cloud in the sky
the wind started to blow the flowers
and branches in the tree's
The sun flowed through her,
there were songs of the birds, the hum of the bee's
and a voice from a stranger, a young man passing, "I'm sorry miss, can I help? Do you need anything?"
She smiled, a first for a long time
as she said, "Thank you. Can you tell me the time and date?"
They talked a bit, and walked slow, as the day glowed with warmth
even the lowering sun seemed wonderful and nice.
By the end of the day, the world slowed in speed
For the young girl she once again found hope, maybe even love
and for sure
Life
while in her pocket secure was the piece of penny now starting to glow bright
for her now was the journey of joy and discovery
and the comfort of being happy.
