Showing posts with label green. Show all posts
Showing posts with label green. Show all posts

Monday, February 27, 2017

Need Some Green?

Buds on trees are only tiny fists yet, and the grass isn't green, but the moss and ferns are. Just to provide us the relief of seeing some greenery. Fiddleheads that grow next to the double waterfall are about two weeks away.

Hawks are pairing; hawks hunt together only when they're choosing mates. Last night in the pink twilight two bats flew overhead and I was so pleased to see them. As I walked to the creek today to hunt fossils I heard a turkey squawking, and it didn't up and flap away as I approached, so it was probably in the process of finding a mate or mating. Turkeys visit my yard but they like to live farther up the lane, near my neighbor, because her house backs onto the woods while mine backs onto a steep cliff like this one.

I'm just going out now to chop tall dry weeds obscuring my view of the bluebird house. A few days ago I cleaned it out because they'll be nesting any day now.

Sunday, February 5, 2017

Alternative Facts

Planted the amaryllis my neighbor gave me for Christmas, using nice potting soil to encourage it. And the bulb sat with its one yellow shoot pointing up, forever, for a month. Not growing or greening. The shoot's tip was dry and brown so I figured I killed it, or a mouse gnawed it, or it was a dud--the rare, one-in-every-10,000 dud amaryllis bulb (I am so centrally important to the universe that rare things happen to me).

The only direct sunlight in winter is in the morning, in the guest room/office, and I tried giving it light. At first I thought I was imagining it, but the yellow blade turned spring-green and grew. Temperatures rose into the 50s outside (global warming is a Chinese rumor to trick the United States out of manufacturing) and I sat it on the porch in a sunny spot on warm days and a blossom end formed and swelled into a pod. Up against a light you can see a shadow developing inside. This morning one side of the pod was split open about an inch. I peeked, trying to see what color bloom it has in there, but I'll have to wait.

P.S. Recently it was my birthday. Several people thought to give me crayons, coloring books, and toys. ("Divine is so lonely or crazy she needs these to fill her time.") Actually I see more people than ever and am working on the greatest project of my life, and so are you, and the amaryllis is an object lesson.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Spring Green

After this winter we are all starved to see anything green, so I went walking to find and feast my eyes upon every possible green thing. It's too soon for leaves, but chives grew on the forest floor, Christmas ferns hung from the bluffs, and lovely spring green moss [pictured] grew over the thin rocky soil, and patches of algae lay submerged in the creek, its water made glass-clear by melting snow. And in the creek I saw, shooting by, a small half-fish half-frog: a tadpole! So I decided to take a chance and waited until dark and then opened the door to the porch and listened, and heard, for the first time this year, the spring-peeper chorus. I just about collapsed with joy and relief. Spring isn't quite dressed yet, but its music is playing.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Tomato Sisters

Just an example, to share with you, of the beauty and symmetry of nature and growing things: Three tomatoes (cultivar: Balcony) on their vine.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Free Chives


Longing for the sight and taste of greenery this time of year, I am always delighted by the chive patches appearing in the lower, wetter parts of the woods during January thaw. Go find some. Use scissors to clip 'em and scissor them over your squash soup, potato soup, or carrots; sprinkle 'em over your omelets; chew on 'em and blow onion breath to gross-out your best friend, dig up a clump to plant in the herb garden. Keep clipping and using your chives or the plant overgrows and gets grassy.