Look at this beautiful bunny. So very mellow and timid-looking.
May 23, 2022
Wrong. This rabbit was sitting there when I came out with my camera to photograph my snow-downed poppies after last month’s big snowstorm. Not knowing it was there, I’d made zero attempt to walk softly. Despite me being practically close enough to tug on its ear by the time I spotted it, this bunny was not at all phased by my presence.
Time to face facts: brazen little bun-buns have taken over the neighborhood. Ah, well. Probably beats an alligator invasion.
In case you’re curious, this is what two feet of wet, heavy snow does to poppies:
Help! I’ve fallen and can’t get up.
May 7, 2021
Tulip in decline
petals collapsing inward
splendid ’til the end
It’s Monday and it feels like a Monday. All I’ve got to offer are these two slightly out of focus Day Lilies I photographed a month ago.
July 3, 2020
Here’s hoping your Monday is following a different script.
I like light, color, luminosity. I like things full of color and vibrant.
~ Oscar de la Renta
Bunny visit to front yard. July 28, 2017.
(Psst… I think Vibrant Bunny is a great name for a band. Feel free to use it.)
Purple Coneflowers. July 19, 2019.
Nature is the most thrifty thing in the world; she never wastes anything; she undergoes change, but there’s no annihilation–the essence remains. ~ Thomas Binney
Hey there, pollen pants
bee who makes my garden grow
many thanks to you.
Past present future
day lily blooms in stages
enjoying the now.
The more specific we are, the more universal something can become.
Life is in the details. If you generalize, it doesn’t resonate.
The specificity of it is what resonates.
~ Jacqueline Woodson
As I revise a young adult novel written years ago, I’m adding specific details in hopes of creating a resonance. May my story bloom as specifically and beautifully as this iris from my garden!
Neither snow nor rain nor nasty blowing winds can keep a good poppy down.
Battered, but still standing proud.
I love me a fierce Poppy.
A few minutes ago I was working in my front yard, sowing death and destruction via my homemade weed killer (white vinegar, salt, and dish soap), while feeling frustrated and worn out by neverending garden demands. I was dreaming of a full-time gardener. Or better yet, a tiny house and one pot of geraniums. Or maybe a barrel of gasoline and a match to make it all go away.
Then I hit PAUSE on my grumpiness and focused on some blooming tulips.
It really is a wonderful thing to survive a long, dark, cold, snowy winter and be rewarded with colorful flowers. I’m still dreaming of my own gardener, but in the meantime I’m gonna try to appreciate the beauty poking through the tangled, weedy mess that is my front yard.
I’m not buying the innocent act, little bunny.
You and I both know who destroyed the lawn next to the locust tree.