Doves at dusk

The birds have been more active since things have thawed. The big black farm cat slinks around more regularly.
Is he too wondering when the bluebirds will arrive?

Last flight of summer

Looking out
the window

Joe saw this monarch resting on the patio this morning. I had to inspect.


He was very docile, hardly moving as I probed with my olympus. Though not tattered, his wings show signs of wear. You can see they are drying out at the edges and in the next photo you can see faded streaks. His antaene look a little rumpled and forlorn too.

His furryness surprised me.

Then when I thought I had taken all the photos I wanted, he closed his wings and flopped over on his right side. I thought it would be sad to have his little body on the patio, so I carefully scooped him into my hand... thinking to take him to one of my potted plants. But once in my hand, his wings popped open again and he heaved himself to the fence, where he clung precariously for a few seconds. I took this shot and then left him alone.

Morning dew

Visual breakfast

This morning as I was getting ready for work I peeked out the window at my herbs to see if they needed watering. They didn't, but the scene was too inviting to pass up. Here's Tom Morris, wiping sweat from his brow before going at it with the tiller.

(Sorry, I'm going to wax poetic/cheesy now.) Something about the mist and dew and streaming sunshine seemed like the Lord telling me it's time to have yet another new start. And my purple daisies, which came back blossoming again from the near-death of our steamy summer, reminded me of part of a song:

"Thou Breath from still eternity
Breathe o're my sprit's barren land
The pine tree and the myrtle tree
Shall spring amid the desert sand
And where Thy living water flows
The waste shall blossom as a rose"

Well, here in Hoptown we've got cedars instead of pines. Crepe myrtles rather than the biblical kind. Red clay instead of desert. And, in my flower pot of yellowed stems, daisies instead of roses. But I was inspired anyway. :-)

Cleveland

My visit with Joe and Mom Parrino to the Cleveland Botanical Garden near my Alma Mater, Case Western Reserve University, was full of excitement. I used to frequent this little green oasis when I was an undergrad and when it was free and walking distance from my dorm. My senior year they began construction on a butterfly rainforest. Happily it was open on July 3rd.

Roy Peter Clark over at Poynter (all you journalists know who I'm talking about) just gave an example of a great journalist who recorded the names of 55 of 56 butterfly names while reporting for a story. (or something silly like that) I on the other hand, only remember one name, the Blue Morpho, and I'm not even sure how to spell it. Joe's mom and I spent all our time swinging our lenses around trying to capture this elusive creature that much prefers gliding and flitting to resting and sunning.

Blogger has not been cooperating with me of late. For a week I couldn't post any photos. Today it decided to work for a little while... there are a few other shots that didn't make the cut though! Maybe it will be in a more obliging mood tomorrow!

Weekend warriors

It didn't rain this weekend. Several weeks ago we scouted out a camp site on a little grassy penninsula with four different paths to the lake. We arrived around 6 on Saturday night and just barely had time to gather firewood, make our dinner and pitch the backpacker's tent that we haven't used since our honeymoon in the Appalachians in '01. We were both pretty exhausted ... and my hands were too sticky from s'mores to take photos that evening. Our peaceful plot was actually quite noisey. The frogs in LBL are not normal ribbiting frogs. They sound more like hogs with megaphones. Anyway, they're also very long winded. I didn't sleep much, but I was still happy when our tent was surrounded by sunbeams and birdsong. Even if it was only 5:00. We managed to get into the tent without more than 2 insects inside with us. But when we woke up, we could hear the buzzing swarms just outside. So we stayed in and ate some muffins.

They look like blueberry. But they're plum-peach with strawberry jam surprise middles.

Finally, I left Joe to snooze longer, and ventured to see what all the buzzy chirpyness was about. And I found dozens of fuzzy bumblebees having their breakfast too.

Then I spent some time appreciating the lake views and getting my toes wet in the dewy grass.

When I finished, there were some other visitors to the tent. But for some reason, blogger isn't letting me post the pics. So they will remain a mystery until I get a chance to edit this.

Owl intruder

We've been having a visitor every night about 8:30.

A horned owl sits in the Catalpa snag in the Sivley's back yard. Notice the particularly bold mockingbird (left) and robbin (right).

The first night he came, the little birds made quite a fuss; actually scaring the owl away. The second night, the owl didn't seem as fazed, though the birds were trying their best to seem intimidating. Last night, only the mockingbird ventured to follow the owl. The owl looked down at the mockingbird... and the mockingbird decided to retreat.

Bluebird update

A lot has been happening at the nestbox of 122 Bruce View Circle. And I've been so very bad at posting all the changes. So I'll do my best to recap the events since the weekend.
On Sunday, we took the feathers from the base of the box... fearing it would attract predators if left alone.

Container Garden

Container garden from left: Planter with Lobelia, petunia, daisies, lemon thyme, basil, sage; mint; basil; dillweed; lavender; more dill; blueberry bush; oregano; basil again.

Oh yeah... I moved to Kentucky

I think my mood over the last several months has been lazy... as evidenced by my complete lack of tending to this blog. In January, Joe and I moved to Western Kentucky to work at a little newspaper in a small but interesting town.

For the first time ever, I've got my own yard (sort of) and a very small container garden on a patio that overlooks a real garden. A kind, old Southern gentleman grows leeks, carrots, big boy tomatoes, purple hulled peas, broccoli, cabbage and corn. And he and his wife like to share-- even with strangers.

Tom Morris, a retired city official, is out in that red dirt and glaring Kentucky sunshine everyday. He doesn't move very fast as he makes his way down the furrows with frequent pauses-- leaning on his bulky green garden tiller. But it seems very little time has passed between our seeing green shoots poking through the earth and our munching on spicy leeks between mouthfuls of biscuit (Tom's suggested way of eating the fat green onions.) They are good. I can maybe almost see why the children of Israel liked them so much.

My 'garden' is not really so impressive. But I do have four edibles--basil, sage, dillweed and lemon thyme. Not quite like Simon and Garfunkel... but close enough. I've already harvested a few of the feathery dill leaves for sandwiches. The dill's so sweet I could just eat the stuff out of the pot. OK, I did eat some out of the pot the other day. The lemon thyme has made it onto a couple tilapia fillets and the basil into some bruschetta. Not quite sure what to do with the sage, but it sure is a cute plant. I've got it grouped with some white petunias, white and purple daisies, the thyme and some midnightblue flowers whose name I've forgotten. The fuzzy, wrinkly leaves look like lime green lambs ears and seem to attract an equally fuzzy lime green spider. Twice I've pulled this critter out of a leaf that he bent and stitched with silky web into an arachnid-sized sleeping bag. I guess the little pest likes good smells, because he's also taken to one of the basils.

This is already long and rambling enough. I doubt anyone reads this... but more KNE food columns are forthcoming.