Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.
~ Robert Browning
House Finch and sunflower, October 16, 2019.
Shades of Browning
out my window
Friday Haiku
These snow-covered lines
already freed by sunshine
I can’t hold a grudge
Thanks a lot, October
Deck and red maple tree on October 10, 2019.
Yesterday we had a high of 80 degrees which then swung to a low of about 20 degrees today. We’re currently at a balmy 25 degrees. Hooray?
I’m praying to the goddesses that we don’t lose trees and shrubs as a result of the temperature swing. The last time this happened, many trees and shrubs (including our own) died. And I’m talking old, well-established trees. It was heartbreaking. The only upside to this current situation is that the snow might provide enough insulation to keep them alive. Last time, there was no moisture involved in the temperature swing.
I’m beaming toasty thoughts to the trees and shrubs. Please hang in there!
Red Eyes R Us
My one last act before stepping away from the computer today is to post this photo of a boxelder bug. I didn’t realize when I photographed it this afternoon that it has red eyes. Guess what? So do I after all that computer work.
Solidarity, Boxelder!
Wordless Wednesday
September 6, 2019
Hello, October
October 1, 2019
In October, a maple tree before your window lights up your room like a great lamp. Even on cloudy days, its presence helps to dispel the gloom. ~ John Burroughs
Friday Haiku
Some days are like that
dead tired and out of focus
now it’s time for sleep.
Magpie Monday
Just one of the many dashing Black-billed Magpies that came around for the peanuts and suet we put out over the weekend. I cleaned and refilled the bath multiple times as birds splashed to keep clean and stay cool in this horrid heat wave. High-90 degree temperatures are much too high, especially for September.
Hope it was cooler in your neck of the woods!
Twofer Tuesday: Junco edition
Two juncos. One adult. One juvenile.
Two juncos. Both hungry.
Two juncos. One seed-gatherer. One seed-receiver.
Two juncos making me smile on this Tuesday morning.
Friday Haiku
The tree stump saddens
vibrant sunflowers gladden
nature’s ebb and flow.
Wordless Wednesday: it’s an earful
Friday Haiku
Past present future
day lily blooms in stages
enjoying the now.
Bee my friend
Just went out on my patio which I mostly avoid because of my overwhelm regarding invasive weeds, cherry tree stump, and the general vibe of gardens run amok. But the anxiety I felt when I saw all the bind weed busily choking out my preferred plants disappeared when I tuned into the buzzzzzzzzz.
Yes, I have a weed issue. However, my gardens are full of bee-butterfly-bird-friendly flowers. And they’re out in force today.
Here is my very favorite bee. This one, unlike the others I photographed, didn’t hide behind the flowers or fly off before I got focused. This bee was very accomodating.
Thank you for coming to my garden, friend.
Friday Haiku
The scrub jay called out
Marcel ran to the window
much to talk about.
The specificity of an iris bloom
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!
Poppy doesn’t give up
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.
Something magical
There’s something just magical about flight. Period.
~ Graham Hawkes
Bringing the warmth and color
Right now the view out my window is dreary. Gray skies and patches of snow on the ground next to the tree limbs that broke off under the weight of the late snow. We’re nearing the end of May and Colorado has been atypically gloomy for the past several days. Enough, already. Thank the goddesses for the cheery plumage of this Northern Cardinal I photographed in Cave Creek Canyon.
Maybe I should go find my own festive red cap . . .
Ready, set, jump
Sometimes, if you aren’t sure about something, you just have to jump off the bridge and grow your wings on the way down. ~ Danielle Steel
King Harvest (Has Surely Come)
While I’m finishing up my work-for-hire project (hooray!!!), Zippy is out on the patio harvesting our worm compost. Each time I fed them over the past couple months I’d remark “I need to harvest this stuff. The bin’s getting full.” Well, I never got around to that harvest.
Today’s the day! Zippy wants/needs compost for the seeds he’s about to plant in his vegetable garden so he’s out there utilizing the pile method. Worms are light-sensitive so migrate down in the piles which makes it easier to separate them from the compost.
But it’s still a labor-intensive process and I’m grateful Zippy has tackled the project. However, I’m feeling a bit left out. Solution? As I work on my manuscript I take breaks to go down and say hello to my worm friends. Here’s a mess o’ worms that were hanging out inside an avocado peel:
And here’s an adult and a younger worm that patiently allowed me to hold them for a moment before I headed back to my writing project:
All hail King Harvest!
Knock-knock
Knock-knock.
Who’s there?
Bushtits.
Bushtits who?
Wrong. The correct question is “Bushtits how many?”
And the answer is 8.
In the eye of a bomb cyclone
I’d never heard of “bomb cyclone” until yesterday and now Zippy has repeated that phrase so many times Zebu and I are debating drinking a shot every time he says “bomb cyclone.” Might as well have some fun with it, right?
The wind is blowing hard and swirling every which way. Windows on all four sides of the house are affected.
North. South. East. West. Everywhere I look is a snowy-blowy mess. Bomb cyclone.
Oops, everyone take a drink!
Take that, Monday!
It’s the first Monday after Daylight Saving Time and despite not waking up until 9:00 A.M. (!), I handled the rest of the day like this take-no-nonsense Bushtit.
Still, I hope that tomorrow I wake at a more respectable time. I’m not sure I can channel my inner bushtit two days in a row.
Sunday Confessional: I’m living in a glass house
Most every time I see a Eurasion Collared-Dove in my feeder I think about how those doves are an invasive species that spread across the United States via the Bahamas. (And if I don’t think about that, I think about how they EAT SO MUCH and aren’t the brightest doves in the chandelier.) But mostly I think to myself “they’re not even supposed to be here.”
Well, today it hit me that I’m an invasive species, too! So I guess maybe I’m not the brightest dove, either. *urp*
Out my window
The sun’s down and evening is here. How did that happen? What was I doing all day?! Oh yeah, I remember. I watched this scrub jay in the feeder for a while.
Even if I’d accomplished nothing else, I’d call that time well spent.
