Too Much?

It has been a time of rains, tremendous rains. Three inches in one day! Floods along some low parts of highways and roads, but no flooding of homes...even tornado warnings in areas close to the Bay, but no touch  downs...no scores, thank goodness.

After these rich drops of water, filled with injected nitrogen via the lightning, arrive the chemistry has made the green jungle stretch and grow and overshadow all.  As I drive down various roads it almost seems as if the branches of the trees are long arms with claws reaching across the road to grab me up.  Heavy pulsing greens are everywhere.  If you pause you CAN hear the woods breathing.  You CAN see them growing.

My flowers are tall and full of blooms, the raspberries are abundant if a bit waterlogged lacking their usual sugars, the vegetables continue to grow with each sunny day that follows.

The birds hang tight to their power washed houses and it appears they are surviving as they have chosen their locations well.  Even my osprey family is doing well with two new young birds eating them out of house and home.

There are blossom petals everywhere:  beneath the pomegranate tree, below the long spines of the hostas, and on the bushes beneath  the last of the blooming clematis as each pale purple petal falls.  

It has been a strange and rich summer thus far.  Each rain brings a small window of moderate temperatures, but I know these will be followed just a day later by the sauna...that is free.

Keep Moving

These are the days where you can only stay cool if you keep moving!

Spiritual Poetry

"Francis helps us to see that an integral ecology calls for openness to categories which transcend the language of mathematics and biology, and take us to the heart of what it is to be human. Just as happens when we fall in love with someone, whenever he would gaze at the sun, the moon or the smallest of animals, he burst into song, drawing all other creatures into his praise. He communed with all creation, even preaching to the flowers, inviting them “to praise the Lord, just as if they were endowed with reason”.19 His response to the world around him was so much more than intellectual appreciation or economic calculus, for to him each and every creature was a sister united to him by bonds of affection. That is why he felt called to care for all that exists. His disciple Saint Bonaventure tells us that, “from a reflection on the primary source of all things, filled with even more abundant piety, he would call creatures, no matter how small, by the name of ‘brother’ or ‘sister’”.20 Such a conviction cannot be written off as naive romanticism, for it affects the choices which determine our behaviour. If we approach nature and the environment without this openness to awe and wonder, if we no longer speak the language of fraternity and beauty in our relationship with the world, our attitude will be that of masters, consumers, ruthless exploiters, unable to set limits on their immediate needs. By contrast, if we feel intimately united with all that exists, then sobriety and care will well up spontaneously. The poverty and austerity of Saint Francis were no mere veneer of asceticism, but something much more radical: a refusal to turn reality into an object simply to be used and controlled."    A small part of the Pope's encyclical for June 2015.  No, I am not Catholic nor catholic, I am not even a Christian in clear analysis, but I am spiritual and this Pope is a spiritual poet that has restored my soul.

In Flight

Is this a natural fluctuation or a sign of a problem?  I live in my small world and only see things by comparing season to season and forgetting information at the far end.  I do not have actual data over decades, but even if I did, it would only be anecdotal as my small part of the environment.  Summer is here and I think I am seeing a few honeybees.  In the past I have had a huge collection of pollinators, but never honeybees!  (Below is a bumblebee.)

I have lost my bluebirds.  Not a one, when I had half a dozen last year!

Butterflies...zebra swallowtails because I have a couple of paw paw trees for larval food. 

The odd skipper or two and a sulfur and yesterday my first fritillary butterfly.  Waiting always for the rare Monarchs!

My butterfly weed plants are huge this year, so I do have my hopes up that Monarch will come for the feast...

A few facts thatt may be of interest:  butterflies have been around at least as long as 3.500 years;  some, like the Monarchs, can fly 2,000 miles;  9-10 months is the longest lifetime of a butterfly;  many butterflies can taste with their feet and thus know whether the leaf is a good one on which to lay their eggs; and top flight speed is 12 miles per hour!

Flying Saucers

All that it takes is one angry thunderstorm and we had two and each an evening apart.  I was awakened by the explosions,the  light shards through the windows and then the angry sound of heavy pelting rain as if trying to drive me outside.  We did need the moisture because our weather has been still and hot.  When I go out early the next morning, barefoot, across the grass and return to a place where a tree died a long time ago I see the familiar fungus appearing.  I missed the photo where it looks like little golf balls.  By day two you can recognize them as mushrooms.

They are easily the size of dessert plates by the next day and look good tasting by day three and they have come up for three years in the same place.

I have observed the squirrels eating them, but only a taste, so I guess they are not all that healthy or perhaps delicious.

By day four they have become flying saucers.

Then by day five they start to deflate like a bad meringue pie.  Soon they are black puddles of stink, and I will spare you that photo!

It is Here

Such an amazing transition from when spring with its delicate yellows and greens and filamentous shoots dancing against the sunlight in a cool afternoon breeze that flirts and teases and makes you more beautiful than you were...

...can overnight turn into a green monster breathing heavily and pulsing with elephantine activity.  Air that becomes so thick with moisture, just standing in the shade can cause one to perspire.  Air that sighs and wheezes and moves like an animal in heat. 

Yes, it is here in all its glory and now I am waiting for the temper tantrums that usually come along...

Red Jewels

What a wealth awaited us from our garden upon our return.  We have been eating huge bowls of leaf lettuce for lunch each day, sometimes with cheese, or fruit slices, or nuts or meats.  We also harvest this lovely bunch of radishes.  Who needs French Impressionist art?

Reality Check

Summer is such a lovely time of year, even when a little hot and humid.  I tend to garden and take photos in my bare feet.  I love the feel of green grass and tend to run across the hot pavement.  It does make my feet spread, but I no longer wear those lovely narrow heels anyway.  Below is what I encountered on my way back through the garage.

He had just swallowed a medium blue-tail lizard when I snapped the photo.  He was totally not intimidated by my presence.  I thought at first it was because he was digesting, but hubby explained that he had nothing and no one to fear in that garage.

He allowed me to get close to him to take this photo.  Copper heads are not your friend.

The Vines

Traveling across France from vineyard to vineyard and then learning that I only have a palate for the more interesting whites and not so much the subtle reds.  I like the bold Cabernet from anywhere other than California, Malbecs from Argentina, and Barolos and Sangioveses from Italy...French wine is wasted on me.

71 Years Ago Today

Such a peaceful and pastoral seen.  Canola blooming in the distance and the horizon of the Atlantic Ocean just beyond, a perfect spring day.

Perhaps this path existed 71 years ago to connect one farm house to another?  Perhaps today it is used for hikers and walkers to stretch their legs.

But 71 years ago today this land was filled with explosions and blood and the cry of young men as they fought their way ashore.

Medieval Garden

That is what it was labeled, and the rock wall and iron gate were too inviting to pass on by.

It was a public garden for the tourist and somewhat neglected.  Since we were public gardeners ourselves we had to stop.  Not sure if the plants were all medieval in nature, but still a nice pause on our walk down the hill from the castle.

My Impression of Giverney

Historic gardens.

 "I want to paint the air around the bridge, the house, the boat. The beauty of the air where they are, and it is nothing other than impossible."  Claude Monet

At one time the pink house of Monet at Giverny was surrounded by a walled woodland. He removed all of the trees except for a few pines near the house and proceeded to develop an "unconstrained garden" of flowers with complimentary colors and blooming trees. This garden has become famous because of all of his paintings. He also dug a number of ponds and these were the settings for his famous water lily paintings. We were so lucky to have arrived very early before the crowds and able to get at least a few photos without people! 

Lucky to get this shot with no people crossing!

Above is the riot of colors. There are something like nine gardeners working on this!  You can see the pink house in the background.  Lots of structure and trellises.

 

There were a few artists/botanists(?) spending time sketching.

"It took me some time to understand my water lilies… I cultivated them with no thought of painting them… One does not fully appreciate a landscape in one day… And then, suddenly, I had a revelation of the magic of my pond. I took my palette. From this moment, I have had almost no other model."  Claude Monet

And above is the famous water garden with the water lilies, unfortunately, not yet in bloom.

In the Purple

This is the last as I should be back by next week in both mind and spirit!

Tiny royal buds

Bathing in a spring shower

Modesty aside.

Pink Mist

Something soft and romantic and almost surreal.

Soft, pink, virginal

Honeyed perfumed seduction

Spring twirls arabesque.

Number Three

Once again some native columbine that hummingbirds sometimes visit.

A fairy is here

With red wings and yellow spears

Battling in cool winds.

The Second

Another flower that reflects the sun.

Yellow warm sunshine
Arms reaching to hug the sun
No fear of sunburn.

The First One

I am off on my trip.   I do not want you to forget me, so I have scheduled some simple flower "paintings"  to go up every few days just for 'remembrance' until I return.  I appreciate your tolerance with my Haiku.

Here is the first one ---white azaleas.

Pale as ghosts in mist

With shimmering angel's wings

The spirit of spring

For Those HP Fans

If you have read the books or seen the series of movies of Harry Potter and his introduction into magic, you may remember the class where they are learning about the magic of plants.  This has stimulated a little lesson plan for when my 10-year-old comes to visit this summer.  I have a volunteer Podophyllum peltatum L. growing at the edge of my woods.  It has common names such as Mayapple, Devil’s Apple, Hog-apple, IndianApple, American Mandrake, American May Apple,Racoonberry, and Wild Lemon.

In the book Harry takes a class on how to transplant the mandrake root, which (in actual folklore) has the reputation of screaming so loudly that it will drive humans permanently mad.  

It is called May Apple because it blooms in May...duh!

It grows in shade areas rich with humus and seems to spread by runners, but I also understand you can grow it from seed (which I may try next year.)  Since my plants grow in a rather innocuous place where an aggressive weed-eater or lawn mower can damage them, I have enclosed the area with a knee-high plant support fence!  I may top dress it with more humus laden stuff this fall.  Other than that, I do nothing for this plant.  It is hardy and is found on woodland walks if you look carefully.

The simple flowers hide beneath those large palmate leaves, so you have to stick your nose down to see them.  Later they form an edible fruit, and I hope to remember to take a photo of that when I return from my trip if the fruit is still handing around.

According to botanical articles the plant is poisonous in some parts, used by herbalists with other, and the fruit itself is edible and was eaten by the American Indian.  Here it probably is eaten by my box turtles!

Check out your yard because it grows in many areas and there is a version on the European continent as well.

Wind's Messages

This day was a very windy day. Living in aged woods means that wind can grab and toss a large stick toward your head maybe wondering if you are good at fetching. I had spent the morning weeding chickweed which overpopulates my yard in the thousands, but is easy to pull. The wind was gusting strongly and I had to be aware if I was under a tree.   Sometimes the branches would groan ominously.  There were torn spring tips of the oaks and tulip poplars flung across the lawn.  My two new roses were wilting with their baby growth as the wind sucked out all of the moisture from their tiny shiny green leaves.

In the later afternoon I decided to take a break and read on the deck with a glass of wine.  The wind was cool, not cold, and intermittent.  It sometimes got so strong and loud I watched my wine glass dance in fear.  It drowned out the songbirds love calls, but not the osprey's challenge.  The male osprey sat face to the wind and threw a piercing call as if challenging the wind to a duel.  He was very strong in his opinions and try as it might the wind could not bend the sharpness of his cry.  His loved one is now sitting on eggs and sat tucked tight in the nest missing the brunt of the breeze.

The vultures that fly over my house were in heaven as their wings could catch these waves of strong air and thus soar faster than they could when they were just riding the warm rise of air on the milder days.  Their shadows came across my book's pages distractingly as they turned toward the house and front yard in repeated circles.

The wind even rocks the tops of the trees that do not yet have a full compliance of leaves.  I wonder if it is shaking them down to their toes so that the roots loosen the soil and begin to lengthen.  It is awesome to see 100 foot masts wave back and forth above my head.  Most of the yellow petals of the tulip poplar have fallen like confetti to the ground all around.  

For a brief time bits of purple clouds held back the sun, but the wind shook them hard and they were compelled to release just a bit of rain and a few drops would fall on my bare feet and the deck and across the pages of my poetry book.  Then the wind tore the purple cotton into mist and apart until they were just cotton tufts.

Clearly on this spring day, mother nature, was not eager to let me read.  Her goal was to break my concentration at every turn. " See,"  she seemed to shout. "See the robins egg blue sky against the purple clouds.  See the yellow party confetti falling into your hair.  See the vulture tip his wings back and forth as if signalling the war is over and he is returning home.  Listen to the rush of air as it sails through the spring woods.  Don't miss it.  You can read some other time."