You Have My Attention Already!

Pillar made five years ago to support
a concrete bird bath that no longer holds water.

It was a demanding call. No doubt about it. Most Scrub Jays have plenty to say, but usually a full sentence or so will do before moving on to a difference audience. This one, however, simply would not stop even after a full paragraph and was ramping up for the second. We roused ourselves from lunch on the deck to determine the what and wherefore of the jay's proclamation.

Well, of course! The bird's watering hole was all but dried up. Make a note: recipe for silence--shallow pan and plenty of water!

Fancied up with shards of broken flag stone. New birdbath in place. It was this one that had gone dry. 

When Life Gives You. . .

. . .sage, yarrow, basil, echinacea, make a bouquet!

A house glows when it holds a bouquet of flowers. Even a tiny arrangement brightens the energy of its space.

Our Bend garden has no beds of flowers for cutting. But it seems that anything the grows well can be arranged to sing its sweetness in the house.

My favorite in the kitchen is a fistful of ordinary herbs that will stay fresher if stuffed into a container with water. Every yard has unsung heroes and supporting actors. Find them out your own back door and give them a shot at center stage!

Mother's Moving in with Us!

Memorial Bouquet created from flowers nurtured in
Mother's yard.

It's been a little over a year since Mother finished the final chapter and closed her book of Physical Self. She's gone. But I really have to say, she's NOT gone.

There's the huge bush of Rhubarb in our front yard that came from a start in hers.

Coral bells from her farm rest in the shade of the back fence, their glow of rosy pink softening the weathered wood.

A small clump of her rosy red Peonies are taking hold in a space that was bleak before they came.

Campanula that crept in with another
gifted perennial--identical to the ones
in the bouquet. Oh, Mother!

And then snuggled in a pot of Shasta Daisies that a friend shared was foliage unlike the sunny white and yellow flower. Separation was done gently and with great care. It's new location was the back yard where the deer can not casually nip it off for breakfast. The blooms came, opening with great glory. And there Mother was again. Love it. Love her.

Yard Staff on Retainer

They've pruned the Chokecherry tree, the Ninebark, the Stonecrop, the Rudebeckia, the Chrysanthemum, the Salvia, the Sunflowers, the Asters, the Rhubarb, the Yarrow and the Daylily. They left the Russian Sage, the Hyssop, the Goldenrod, the Lavender, the Rosemary, the Juniper and the Rhododendrons. 

These and two others are our resident gardeners this fall, pruning, nipping, leveling anything green.  But then they've
saved me all that work on my hands and knees trimming back the perennials for winter.  And maybe it will help
cover their visible ribs.  Win-win.

Aging Gracefully

It's a common phrase for the Boomers. Not sure how it's done, exactly. Maybe not to slow, not too fast, without cursing at everyday, but more focused on finding the blessings that lie concealed in each moment.

Personally, I think it means a balanced, peaceful acceptance of how the body changes over time. Is it also a finding of bliss in the now when it's not easy to see through dimming eyes?  Maybe being strong of spirit as the body finds it's way in years? However it is defined, growing old with class is pretty well nailed by these pine cones.

Silver heads of the elderly mixed with the newly-fallen.
I'm guessing ten years worth of pine cones collected
here--all at different stages and aging gracefully.

A Quiver

Stunningly handsome Quail are the helpful birds who clean up after
 the messy ones who eat from the feeders in the tree.  

A dozen or so are what remain of the thirty-plus that
hatched early in the summer. 

The earth moves.  It quivers.  Covey is no-doubt the more correct word for a collection of quail, but from the kitchen window, the grey-brown earth under the chokecherry tree is trembling with birds.


















Really, a "quiver of quail" is what we see regularly.

Seize the Sunflower

Mr. Bushy--as big as the head of seeds.

One plant with its weighty head remains in the yard.  It attracts attention from nearly all the critters.

Finding a way to reach the underside where the gold lies.

Birds have pecked at it.  Jays have hung upside down till their brains nearly burst.  The deer have eaten all the leaves they can reach (the stalk is over six feet tall), and deer don't even like sandpaper-abrasive leaves like these.

Did you know that squirrels eat the flesh of the head
as well as the seeds?

This guy is determined to get his share, fair or not. He comes better equipped to make an end to this valiant plant than all the other visitors.  Until I came out and took down the plant, it appeared to be all his.  Nope. The head goes on the ground under the tree where dozens of birds feed.  Just a little lesson in sharing.