A Good Mum

Much smarter now than when I moved here, especially in the ways of plants, when I watered the sunny yellow potted Belgian mums I frittered away $5.99 on and chose from dozens, and the water ran right out through the bottom and the blooms drooped as if aphids had got at 'em, I said to myself, "They're root-bound, that's why."

So animated with color and life that they are great company, they attracted another friend, the green one whom you see here. The mums come indoors at night because squirrels will wantonly destroy anything they see that I treasure. I was, however, thrilled to correctly identify the problem, tickle and rip their tough strangled roots apart, and transplant to a slightly larger pot where the mums now thrive. I've always been a talented transplanter; even Demetrius, the genius gardener, agreed I had the knack. Maybe I should try heart and liver transplants. The blooms perked up, and from day one have brightened the whole scene. So glad I paid the $5.99. When September comes, one must do everything possible to stay an optimist.

Talk to the Animals

Aloud, to the the baby bunny I saw today: "Hello, sweet little itty-bitty baby bunny. Don't be scared of me. I'd never want to hurt you."

Aloud, to the grasshopper I just saw on the shower curtain: "You know you don't belong in here. You know what's going to happen to your ass."

Wild Petunia & Friend

The poet James Russell Lowell -- "What is so rare as a day in June?" went on to write in the same celebratory poem, "There is no blade of grass too mean/to be some happy creature's palace" -- and today I found a grasshopper enthroned in a Hairy Wild Petunia (Ruellia humilis), common Ozark wildflower. Photograph taken very early this dewy morning.