Iris Poem

 

The creeping rhizome is not your best feature

Perhaps the knife-like blades that are the first to pierce the air

Or, perhaps, the tall yoga poise saluting the sun that catches my eye 

Maybe it is your honey colored beard that is so nicely trimmed

Or the fragrant smell of fresh grapes which reminds one of wine

Certainly not the silky flags that you wave in the breeze

Like a spring fairy luring us into slumber?

Breathe, Just Breath

Today is the last big push day for a while.  I have tasks in the early morning--voting.  Mid-morning shopping for some food for a meeting tonight.   Mid-afternoon prepping for my math class and then prepping for a short talk I have to give in the evening at the meeting.  I have promised myself to keep the next two days open and free and careless, even if it kills me.  For you, my readers, some of the pretties that have raised their breathtaking heads in my yard because I know you have time to smell the flowers.

Clematis

Columbine variety

Iris

Cinquefoil

 

 

Aquilegia canadensis (columbine)

 

Half Full

Yes, everything ends for those in the world where the cup is half empty. 

 But in the spring the cup is always half full.

The Purples Have Started

These beauties self-seed across my garden, but they are lovely and easy to control. I have them in reds, blues, purples and pinks! (Columbine)

Daffy for Them

You know that lady that gets down on her knees in the damp muddy lawn in her pajamas with nary a brush through her bedhead hair?  Yep, that is me.  Please be forgiving.  At least I am drunk on something healthy...spring.  My daffodils are finally all over the place in my yard this year.  Below are just a few of these golden jewels that shine in the early morning sun.

Yes, my back deck is cluttered with various seedling flats, but those daffodils still take center stage.  They are a bit confused as I was trying to turn the pots so that they were more upright into the sun and clearly that have not a clue where the sun is!

Curtains

Trees are beginning to crochet their lacy curtains that will hide some of my magnificent sunsets.

Winging In

It is not even the middle of April and I have already come across these Lepidoptera visiting what few flowers are blooming.  I do not remember a spring when they have visited so early.  Is it because our winter was mild?  It is due to climate change?  It is because my yard has now grown into a good habitat?  There were two others, smaller and dancing in the air much faster, that I could not capture with my camera.

There was another Zebra Swallowtail that visited earlier and even went to the persimmon tree waiting for its blossoms.  The one above has one of the fuzziest coats of hairs and I wonder if these get shed as weather warms.

There are at least seven families of butterflies on the globe.  They have a life history that is most complicated as they reproduce on only certain plants, some use chastity belts for their female partners after they mate, some mate for HOURS(!).  Most have four life stages but one actually has the mother die when the young emerge from her abdomen.

These visitors were in pretty good shape.  I had taken a photo of an even earlier butterfly whose wings were so shredded I wondered how he/she could still fly.

Some lay eggs in batches and some singly.  Some eggs are attached with a special glue to the leaf of a specific plant and others have eggs that fall to the base of the plant.  Some eggs have a symbiotic relationship with ants that protect them.  And as most of us know the pupa stage can be the most fascinating.  That transition time when a caterpillar evolves into a winged beast.  The process involves hormones and various types of cells and is extremely complex, in my view.

The redbud, the daffodil and the apple tree all seem to be able to provide some sustenance for my visitors.  I guess spring has finally arrived.

Future Abundance

While the dogwoods will produce bright red berries in the fall for the birds

Other flowers such as these cherry blossoms will provide something for jams

And the daffodils need only show off during the month of April since our eyes are starved for beauty and we forgive them for doing their reproduction below the earth where we cannot see.

On the Green

According to science our rods and cones (those in our eyes, not the garage) see greens and greenish yellow the best even though we see thousands or perhaps millions of colors overall. It has been suggested that it is because of our need to eat greens as primates.  According to one website: "A "standard" eye can distinguish about 200 nuances per color. The human eye sees therefore approximately: 200 x 200 x 200 = 8.000.000 colors ! (Note that we are far from the billions of colors that some monitors or televisions are talking about)."  Scientists say that the eye has a more extended sensitivity towards greens than towards the other two primary colors red and blue, and perhaps, that's why digital cameras sensors have two green pixels for a red and a blue pixel when you look at it with a magnifier!

I think that green is a very peaceful and restorative color. When spring comes, all it takes is a glimpse of a lime green field of new growth or the green flags of spring leaves waving at us against the blue sky to restore us to a more peaceful mood.  

So I went outside to absorb some greens.

Sweet peas in the garden.

Hosta

Spring mosses

Just the Edges

Took the afternoon off yesterday and with camera in hand strolled around my front yard. Told myself to ignore the chickweed and other seeds in their emerging splendor and not feel guilty about not weeding. Forced myself to just look for some good photos representative of the peaceful day. The wind was starting to gust and so most of the photos were blurred, but the wind did not erase the color of spring, just the edges.

One of My Favorite Places

Some people see the landscape above and think of bugs, alligators, snakes, mud and bad smells.  On the right is the bridge to Hilton Head, South Carolina.  While Hilton Head is condos, hotels, million dollar homes, golf courses, and restaurants, the place where I am standing when I took this photo is an island preserve called Pinkney.  It is a precious island of swamp, marsh grass, freshwater ponds, and hardwoods that shelter the bugs that birds eat, the baby fish that lots of things eat, the migratory waterfowl, and of course, gaters.  It is a very rich and unforgiving place.  We take our bikes and ride the miles of gravel, tree root bumpy trails.  We get down close and personal with hatching egrets, re-awakening alligators and just a few tiny bugs that annoy.  It is one of our favorite haunts in spring and is hot but tolerable in summer.

In the distance that black spot is probably a coot.  And below is my first "gater" of the season.  He was about three feet and very somnambulant.

Pink Elephants

Nope, not seeing those, but spring has splashed on in here!

Not my trees, but at an historic garden to the north.

This is it.

All I have for now...catching up from travel, but thought I would share this sunset from Hilton Head, South Carolina.

Flowers!

My first real bouquet of the season from my front yard!

Follow the Sun

I am so fortunate to live on a small river that also faces the setting sun. I get to follow its arc across the horizon of the earth and then feel privileged to document its encores each night.  Some nights there is cloud cover or rain or snow and no sunset. But I get enough sunsets each month to treasure.  Below is a series of these beginning in January when the sun set on the left of the photo over the near trees until mid March where warmer weather lets me take its reflection in the water from the dock instead of the deck of my house through the trees. I thought it would be nice to share these views and I hope you enjoy them!

December 12, 2015

January 13, 2016

January 31,2016

February 7, 2016

February 13, 2016

February 26, 2015

March 5, 2016

March 7, 2016

The Lion and the Lamb

Early last week was another tease of spring...longer this time.  Weather pushing 60F and me in shirt sleeves shoveling mulch on top of the one inch high green fingers of the optimistic daffodils.  Must get some mulch on things before they get too tall.  Cutting my struggling roses way back and committing "crepe murder" along the driveway.

Even the song birds were placing bets on the long shot.  The bluebirds were hanging out over the arbor checking out the birdhouse on that structure.  I was excited because we lost all of our bluebirds last year, some to the late spring cold blast and others to some predator.  I suddenly realized we had not cleaned out our 10 or so houses scattered around the property this past fall and stopped the mulching to clean out bird houses while hubby tackled the thorny pyracantha.  I was happy to see that most of the houses had been occupied last year.  Unfortunately I had inadvertently chased off the bluebird who did not return the rest of the day.

Several more hours of yard work (meaning I did not have to justify other more boring exercise indoors) ended with cutting back the tall grasses on the retaining wall and heading inside for a well earned cup of tea and my mystery book.

Within days Mother Nature slapped me up the side of the head, reminding me how fickle spring can be.

The weather did not turn bitter cold, but the snow hung on for a day or two and with temperatures in the 70s this week I will be compelled to return outside and finish the job.

Shrugging His Red Shoulders

He has become a somewhat familiar figure stopping by almost once a week while his mate does a high wire act and sings arias. He watches her with a careful eye as she sails over the river and then back over the oak trees.   They are in love and it is spring.

He soon returns to the buffet just 15 feet below his perch. He seems unable to decide which beauty should be the first to break his winter diet.  Oddly the songbirds either forget he is there or realize they must be down pecking at the ground for capture as they frequently fly to the feeders fearlessly.  Perhaps he is not quick enough to navigate around the feeders themselves and they know this.

I was surprised to find he did not seem to be more interested in the two mourning doves that scuffled on the ground later in the day.  Maybe he is on a diet.   Maybe he is trying to make friends?

He is very handsome with his smooth russet feathers and golden eye.  Much like a Leonardo De Caprio of the woods. Looking good all dressed up.  Many times being brave and giving me the stare down.

The Start

Days are getting longer and moods are getting brighter.  Birds are noisier and whole flocks of robins and cedar waxwings fly over, pause for 20 minutes in my skeletal tree branches, clean out worms from the lawn or holly berries in the woods and then like Black Friday shoppers race on to the next yard or field.  It is beginning.

Early Birds

The early bird gets not only worms but some of the best lighting on the river.  And way at the top of that tallest tree mid photo, that you probably cannot see, sits a bald eagle in proud form being watched by a nearby crow.

Weather or Not

Climate Change, that crazy cousin of Mother Nature, has been dancing around the edges between winter and spring for weeks now. He is like a precocious child that has been given a wind machine and an air heater and he viciously flies up and down the coast raising the air temps on one side and then running up the wind machine from across the farmlands on the other pushing the colder air into a fight with the warmer air.

Then when he gets a good thing going he sits back and laughs at the wet lightning battle. 

We watched wide-eyed as 100 foot trees were flung back and forth and the smaller branches ripped from their hold to be flung into the air like crazy missiles.  We frowned as the river climbed high over the dock and pushed its way up the stone path toward the lawn.  We watched the sky turn angry charcoal as the sun began to set.

The rain that was released was nasty and flooded roads and lawns.  The lightning was frightening forcing all the creatures into shelters as the dark approached.  We sheltered down in the basement sitting near the storage room which is solid concrete block on two sides as the land line and cell phones rang over again and again and the TV sirens went off warning tornadoes were on there way.  Fortunately few touched down and none near us.

It was over in less than an hour and the Climate Change cousin got bored with the game and decided to fly over the Atlantic and play with the big boats.