Rings

I tweet

This is my version of twitter: a few vignettes of nature that touched or tickled me in recent days...

1) Black fuzzy Spider innocently poised on sunny railing 12mm from black buzzy Fly who is the same size
Spider 'sneaks' towards Fly in micrometer advances, hoping Fly won't notice in broad daylight
Fly toys with Spider in jittery stillness, I'm laughing
in a subtle flash fuzzy pounces and Fly, not surprisingly, flies! Spider, fuzzy on the railing, wonders how to improve his subtle strategy.

2) Chickadee and chickadee flutter onto two sides of a circle feeder
And as two strangers struck with the same thought, they suddenly twitter lustily... in perfect unison!
chickadee shook to clear his head and flew off, not sure what just happened. chickadee stayed and beaked black sunflower seeds.

3) Light was gently rolling up and into the morning, the sun was on its way.
and mourning dove cooed in the locust tree like warm coconut pudding. From a few trunks away, came a luring reply of the same tenor... and without an breath of hesitation, the dove in the locust came again...and back...and again, almost overlapping, they cooed and wooed so sweetly. I looked up from the garden bed to a flutter of wings in branches and two doves fly away.

4) I glanced out to the deck where our wedding ribbons flutter and birds thought no one was watching. First a tufted titmouse hopped off the garland and onto the ledge in his playful disheveled pose. Soon, in for a landing came black-capped chickadee. Checking and pecking for seeds and bits, they hopped and chirruped and discovered new treasures, unhurried to leave the other's company and following the other's nose. Fun little friends of different feathers!

5) Murmuration* is an amazing experience. I witnessed one on the way home from a funeral last week at dusk. The show had already begun when I pulled off the road and I stood spellbound for 25 minutes.
Hundreds upon hundreds of birds had taken the air above me by storm as in formation they welled and swelled and exploded and spilled liked fish schools in water. As one, the beating of their wings pounded my ears and dropped my jaw.

Then, almost imperceptibly, the tide went out as each rank gracefully dove into the same shrubbery- easily a thousand birds in company and chittering! The passing farm tractor could not drown them out. Insatiably curious (would they keep this up all night? what was going on at this gathering??), I stayed until I noticed that they were simmering down and drove home breathless.
*Murmuration is just the name for a grouping of Starlings according to wikipedia, so I'm not sure if I've got the right term for this phenomenon that I watched.

5) A poem from 16 feb 2012

That bird made a fool of me--

warbling at the top of an empty tree,

pulling out all of february's stops

and I, legging across grounds, craining,

bumping passersby,

could not lay my gloomy-lifted eyes on

its fluffy little boom box!

--a happy fool

It seems like my blog ends up being only pictures of nature and garden delights. Oh well- the truth is that a part of me thrives on dirt and produce and birds and leaves and the water cycle and I like to share that with others.

This morning, the pink and orange rise lured me out to check on the seeds I planted yesterday. I started weeding things and came home triumphantly with...

...a fist full of wild spring onions! I simply plucked and sliced these fresh slender whites that had been planted by wind and water. What a gift! Their powerful flavor will simmer nicely in a wild onion and 'shroom soup.

Six months ago, my father-in-law and I leisurely cast turnip seeds in for a second-season garden

... and up thrust a hearty patch of roots and greens that two families haven't yet eaten through.

I picked one today for a fresh crunch along with wraps for dinner. Here's to amazing root veggies!

snow!

I knew that this lovely fluff would be mostly melted by the time I got home today, so I dashed around and snapped some photos of one of my favorite winter happenings...

This is posted with thoughts of loved ones far away who also love snow.

our abode

yesterday these fields were bright green! (see below)

This was actually taken the end of January, so they're greener now.

love our woodstove...

Maples at the ready for true spring.

Fluffy chunks of snow pelted down, about 3 inches in 1.5 hours.

Today it took me 40 minutes to go 4 miles between my house and my internship in locked traffic.

snow peas!

There said Owl

"There," said Owl. "That does it!" Owl stopped crying.

Any fans of dear Owl know that this was his cry (pardon the pun) upon filing his teapot with tear-water tea.

Last Saturday, at the persuasion of the January sun, and the need for therapy, I did something crazy

... and planted tear-water peas before the first month of the year was up.

Clipping long-dried stalks from summer past, reuniting with the compost, and plunging my piggies in the dirt, I realized that I had a sense of happiness, in some wholesome way.

That must be what gardening does for me and I needed it...so I didn't stop there!

Gleefully, I pushed in radishes, greens, spinach and beets. Hah ha! Take that!

I liked to think that the seeds were enjoying it too, relieved of their little envelopes and settling happily into where they'd naturally spend a winter.

If I make time for another blog post in 3 months, I may be munching on veggies :)

But let me be true and say ... that that would only be by a miracle.

I cannot make a seed shed its coat and grow something entirely new... I simply wait and hope that all the right bacteria just 'happen' to be there where I happen to lay down a seed on a whim ... I lift not a finger to keep the world on its axis ... The water cycle works its vital magic whether I dance in the rain or not ... I have to knee myself out of bed even though these miracles are bursting all around me.

Let me silence the rocks and shout Halleluia!

Progress Report

Remember this guy? and his cream, silver, bronze and black chrysalis with a body shield?

On Friday (one day over three weeks after becoming a chrysalis) he turned black and started whapping his abdomen around in the morning...

And while I was on the phone with my Mom, he turned into this! Note the fluid expelled on arrival. My Dad-in-law has half of a PhD in bug and butterflies and he tells me that when the butterfly first comes out, it's wings are only the size of the chrysalis. Then the butterfly pumps fluid through the veins and the wings fill out and become the size you'll see in the next photos. It only takes about 5 minutes, and I missed it.

Just an old leaf hanging there- color coded for the season.

Climbing out to meet the world

Wing shots

It was hard to get a picture of the sun behind the wings because he kept turning so that the sun directly laid on his wings and I couldn't take the picture straight into the sun.

Great camouflage

I kept thinking he was about to fly, but it took hours.
I call this guy 'he' because my Dad-in-law said, at least for Monarchs (this is a Fritillary) you can tell the males by a tiny scent gland on a certain vein of the wings. I saw something similar on this one.

He finally flew from my finger, up over the roof and off into the big blue sky!

Quote on humans

My hubby just found this quote:
"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.
Specialization is for insects."
- Lazarus Long (a fictional character) in a book by Robert A. Heinlein.

Hubby hatched a machine and I'm expecting butterflies

Something I slowly learn in life is that only you really know your own story. I jot mine down in my head quite frequently- the delights and adventures and ponderings, but not often do I sit down long enough to write and share them. And when I'm in person, I can't draw up the very stories I wished to tell. So you only get the skimmings and only the presentable, interesting ones at that. Oh well, right now I can't do any better than that.

So it's true. M hatched his machine. From brain child, to wooing a contract, to design drawings, to parts, to building, to livingroom, to kitchen, to deck,...to Richmond! The machine, which we call Alvin, is still under the warming lights, one could say (so the job's not over yet). But we take milestones when we can get them!

Here are a few pics of the night Alvin moved out of the house. Two friends came after their days of work and helped us move it out of the house, down off the deck and up onto a trailer where they built a crate around it. We estimate it weighs around 400+lbs.

There's Alvin

It's good that there are no hands on that machinery moving...

A boost of morale

Final touches

Yes, that's the moon. and that's a lamp he's holding.

And off he went the next day, over the foggy mountain, pulling the trailer with crate strapped on.

As for me, my local excitement is hosting chrysali on my kitchen counter. For some reason I never watched this process as a kid, and I'm acting much like one about it all.