What a summer ~ what a year!

Tags

Benjamin Moore solid stain, Central Virginia, garden, Gardening with evergreens, hip replacement, home, landscape renovation, life, Patio renovation, Virginia, Zone 7A

Despite the fact that I was forced into retirement last December due to severe osteoarthritis that gradually settled into both my hips, the needy house and garden projects prevailed.

A year ago, helpers removed three twenty-year old deciduous viburnums and three mature PJM rhododendrons from the front herbaceous borders. They were tired and were plagued annually by either thrips or thinning branches. This renovation also meant rethinking the front foundation bed, which never thrilled me.

Once I had a tabula rasa, with the fine, healthy choices at my local Southern States nursery, three Chindo viburnum, one Liberty holly, and two false cypress went in the front border, which is sloped and facing the road. As I age, I decided to change the landscape to evergreen shrubs that have handsome, glossy leaves, and showy texture. The Liberty holly promises to produce lovely clusters of red berries, but so far, nada. I also discovered “No Float” cypress mulch which, so far, has performed beautifully on the many slopes here.

With my back to the front door, this is the view of the bed along the road. Beginning at the left stands a young Green Giant arborvitae, three mature Prague viburnums, and the new plantings: one Liberty holly, three Chindo viburnums, one rogue Little Lime hydrangea that does not know it is little, one mature fringe tree, two false cypress (Gold mop), one young Northern arborvitae, and the three very mature O’Neil blueberry shrubs, that produced a whopping 39 pounds of berries this past May! Directly on the road stands a row of heavily pruned Leyland Cypress. The new plantings will build another layer of evergreen privacy between the road and the house. That white object in the foreground is the humidifier bucket that I did not remove before the shot. 😉 Since the basement humidifier produces two gallons of water per day during the summer months, that water is valuable for the gardens.

Two blogs back, I had marvelous help who replaced a 40-YO railroad tie retaining wall, and the nearby peony bed (on the slope from hell) was raked and sodded. Before humidity set in this year, I managed to get the new retaining wall stained with Benjamin Moore’s solid stain in Oxford Brown, and kept the new sod alive through another steamy central Virginia summer.

This was the state of the lower patio all summer. I considered power washing it, then painting, but as the summer humidity set in, I had time to reconsider my options. Twenty years ago, I applied concrete stain to this 300SF patio, and the results were a miserable fail. So why try again? For 15 years I had deck boards applied…another epic fail, so now I was faced with a new solution.

Voila! Outdoor carpet made from 100% recycled soda bottles…installed this week! I giggle at the name…Grizzly Brown, but it is really nice under foot, and required only a razor blade to cut. It is loose laid, and I am over the moon! Ratings were good, so I expect this install to perform 365/24/7 for years to come. Comments? I apologize for the foreground here, as the black buckets are rain catchers, due to the recent dry spell. The new cypress mulch is pretty, as are the old oriental poppies, that enjoy this place in the foundation bed.

View from the opposite end of the patio. Just think, it only took 21 years to come up with this concept. Young gardeners/homeowners who read this, take heart.

Just last week when summer finally released her grip, I applied a fresh coat of BM stain on the opposite end of the patio’s 6′ retaining wall and coated an aging 12′ section of privacy fence in the lower corner of the yard. Four additional new evergreen shrubs were added to the front foundation bed and three false cypress were planted in the dark border in the rear yard. All are now freshly mulched (the front with more No Float cypress) and the rear with pine.

Additionally, I washed the house, carport, and garden shed with E-Z House Wash (an annual DIY event) and returned to wash and squeegee all the exterior casement windows. Phew!!! My hips are screaming at me following each task, yet I am pushing to get chores done before my…wait for it…my right hip total replacement on October 24TH!!!!

Thank angels, the young man who installed my patio carpet, turns out to be local, and is willing to help me with remaining garden chores both before and after my surgery…and hopefully next year with mowing.

Just this morning on TV, I heard a woman lamenting the aging process at thirty. I had to laugh, and wanted to message her and say…just wait forty years!!!! I admit, aging is a challenge, and I am not aging gracefully. All my life, until two years ago, I enjoyed being spirited in any activity I chose and my body cooperated. Now it appears, I must pay the piper.

If any reader has experience with joint replacement, do comment and share. I am currently in denial, and push with projects. If I survive this process, at least I may gaze out into my winter landscape and enjoy what I see, and be hopeful for the years ahead. After all, I want to see my new landscape thrive.

Copyright 2022 By Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

the perfect Tiny House

Tags

environment, home, tiny house, wild birds

As I cleaned out the three bird boxes last week, I could not resist photographing the nest of the Black Cap Chickadee.

The adorable, tiny black cap chickadee. 

Constructed during the unusually cold spring, this bird insulated her eggs/chicks with divine plushness. Notice the moss base topped with what appeared to be wool or dog hair. I am astonished how creative these birds are when Mother Nature throws a curve ball.

Keep in mind as you view these images the fact that this small bird erects her nest without help from a mate, only using her mandible, feet, and flight. The entire interior of the box was filled with this material…picked bit by bit and carefully constructed. Are you impressed?

End view. If you were a chickadee, would you be glad to enter this world snugged in by this nest?

Custom made, mouthful by mouthful, this beautiful nest is used only for one brood per year. I encourage moss in my gardens solely for this purpose.

Carolina Wren and Eastern Bluebird nests are totally trashed by the time the brood fledges, often found with many mites and fecal matter. This nest was pristine, tidy with no mess. I hated to take it to the burn barrel, but alas. Before doing so, I had to capture and share photos with followers.

Also happy to report that the resident Eastern Bluebirds have so far this spring successfully fledged two broods of three chicks each. Within days of the last fledge, the adults are back and the female is constructing her third nest. This is a first for my garden’s box, as summer is usually too steamy for a third go. Yet I am confident that this “professional” pair of birds will make do. I gave the box’s interior a good scrub and added Diatomaceous earth to the bottom of the box to ward off blow fly and other blood sucking parasites so common to these birds.

Nestling bluebirds day nine ~ Swallowtail Cottage

As another steamy Virginia summer heats up, I am delighted each day by the wild bird activity in my gardens, observed from my air-conditioned home. Eastern Bluebirds, Black-Cap Chickadees, Northern Cardinals, Red Bellied Woodpeckers, and Carolina Wrens are by far my favorite birds and they are spoiled by hand-chopped sunflower seeds I deliver throughout the day to my rear terrace. Despite challenges from the plethora of invasive 2020 squirrels, I am slowing winning the battle.

Observation of wild birds, their distinct behavioral patterns, intelligence, beauty, and ability to adapt is truly remarkable. I am so envious of their innate ability to just simply fly.

What birds do you love best? What have you learned from your observations?

Keep safe.

Copyright © 2020 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

Miracles everywhere

Tags

butterfly larva, garden hobby, garden miracles, home, inspiration, life, Pipevine Swallowtail

In the words of a local butterfly mentor, Linda best described the wonder of these images I captured earlier this spring:

“From a side view, the chrysalis of the magnificent Pipevine Swallowtail  butterfly resembles a miniature prehistoric dragon head. The chrysalis can be a vivid shade of lime green or a mottled grayish brown, suspended on a twig or stick by a monofilament of silk to hold it securely in place until the butterfly is ready to emerge. It then begins to turn dark, revealing the wing pattern and body of the soon to be butterfly. Once freed of its enclosure, it will pump fluid into its wings, making them strong enough to carry the butterfly on the wind or beat a hasty retreat, to nectar plants for sustenance, to begin the life cycle again. The four life stages of a butterfly are truly a remarkable manifestation of Mother Nature’s handiwork.”

Linda Marchman
Author of “Gone Astray”, “Silent Meow”  and NEWLY PUBLISHED “Lost and Found Cats”  www.felinefiction.com

Early this year, I collected five Pipevine swallowtail eggs from the host plant, a vine (Pipevine) trellised in my garden just for this purpose. Raised indoors due to freakish late killing frosts in March/April, three eggs would fit on the the head of a pin. Tiny. When fed fresh host plant leaves indoors, they grew rapidly in a lettuce container placed in the bay window. The small dots you see in this photo is frass, or butterfly poop. I emptied the frass many times per day and kept leaves fresh. Caterpillars cannot see nor hear. They just eat and poop.  If left in the wild, merely three out of one-hundred would survive to maturity. Predation is rampant. Therefore I do my part to help these beauties survive. About two weeks later, they climbed on the skewers I supplied, and formed their chrysalises. Despite the cold swings outdoors, they rested comfortably indoors.

This is one Pipevine chrysalis, formed last fall. I stored it in the unheated garden shed over winter, and brought it inside with five of its mates this spring, where they all emerged as butterflies. See what emerged a few minutes later below…

Notice the different shapes created by the same kind of swallowtail. This one is especially spectacular. The color and shape happened before my eyes. Have you ever seen this transformation? These photos were taken in natural light and the camera was hand-held. If you sew or paint, I am sure you will appreciate this image.

Amazing, yes? Notice the wee silk thread created by the caterpillar before it transformed into a chrysalis. This is one fine form of engineering!

This pair is from the same group, yet completely different in color. This I cannot explain. They all emerged successfully two weeks later and I hope that they all live a complete cycle…another two short weeks. In fact this morning, one Pipevine was back at the vine laying eggs. Who knows if it was one of mine. The circle continues. 

Voila! The overwintered Pipevine emerges! After a while its wings engorge with fluid, and within a short time, it is ready to fly.

Another view of  spent chrysalis with emerged butterfly resting outside. Over the years, I have raised hundreds of Monarchs and various Swallowtails. They each have a particular life cycle. Learning their ways, caring for them, and seeing them at first flight is a hobby that never fails to delight. When all things come together in perfect harmony, Mother Nature rewards us with miracles.

To these special moments, I cling, while the rest of the planet is currently crazed.

See more of my many butterfly photos and posts by typing Monarch into the search bar on this blog. Butterflies are quite magical, fragile, and fleeting. Similar to life itself.

Let me hear from you in the comments section!

Copyright © 2020 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

Transform, transition, resilience

Tags

garden, gratitude, home, life, The New Normal

Fear can paralyze us.

Change can anger us.

Gratitude can transform us.

Since March 16 my life is forever changed. And for the better.

We must have hope for the better.

At first, I was in denial about the pandemic. Cases had not yet arrived in my small town. I did not wear a mask until a month ago. I live in the country, and believe the air is pure. I limit my trips to town. Already a compulsive hand washer (being in food production), I quickly located gloves to protect my flesh from harsh hand sanitizers while out in public.

Overnight, ordinary supplies vanished from store shelves. I began to order back-stock of my supplies. Shipments arrived from Florida. Supplements from Amazon arrived late or vanished altogether. Then restaurants closed. Schools closed. Death tolls began to mount. Life is no longer normal. A global shift. A mighty cull. A change out of control.

I must transition or suffer.

The Good Begins:

The first Saturday in April is the beginning of the farmer’s market season here in Central Virginia. This season is my 20th. I have been ready for change for over a decade and change happened in a BIG way. Our public market is closed until further notice. Fortunately, our management scrambled and bought a software geared to online farmer’s market shopping and drive-thru pick up. At first I resisted — many hoops to jump through. I had to open a PayPal account in order to receive payment. NO!
Hesitantly, I joined the other reserved agricultural/value added vendors, and by week three sales quadrupled! I am awash with new business. Customers never before seen. Apparently they want to Buy Fresh, Buy Local and with gusto!

This is how it works:

Monday through Thursday, the public can place/preorder items listed on the site. They also pre-pay so there is no cash exchanged. Vendors gather with their vehicles in a city park, socially distanced, and from 8-12 on Saturday, while customers drive through, trunks open, and vendors place their orders in those trunks. The revenue goes into a City PayPal account, and after they deduct their commission, the balance is transferred to vendor’s accounts. Easy peasy. Technology is fantastic when it works for the overall good. And this is GOOD.

The first week I nearly had a stroke when I checked my orders. Until then, I had become resigned to an inevitable annual loss. Instead, I never had this demand at the old market. I hit the ground running, delighted that organization is my forte, and at my ripe age, still functions. No more guessing nor speculating. No more exhausting chit chat with market customers. No more crack-of-dawn risings. I am over the moon!

Supply shopping became a game. Some hits, some outs. Helpful suppliers and new ones found online have performed flawlessly. I am grateful. So grateful. As a one-woman operation, every bit of help is appreciated! Angels appear in the most unexpected places.

The Advantage:

With stay at home orders in place, families want/need an excuse to get out of the house. From the safety of their automobiles, this drive-through venue allows an outing (even dogs attend) for the entire family, albeit behind closed windows. Vendors are gloved and masked, and communication is nil, except for a wave or thumbs up. When all orders are picked up, vendors too are free to leave. Such a delightful change. Everyone wins.

Back at Swallowtail Cottage:

This spring has been one for the record books. On April 19, we had a killing frost of 29F. For zone 7A, this is harsh. The annual cash crop of hundreds of peony stems/buds were wilted to the ground. This has never happened in the nineteen years I have lived here. They seemed to recover once the sun rose, but most stems have remained in a stupor ever since.

The Oriental poppies are splendid this spring, yet the peonies are having a difficult time with these unusually cold nights.

Mother’s Day is the sweet spot for peony bouquet sales, yet I merely harvested 18 stems suitable for sale yesterday. Meanwhile, last night we had another hard freeze. Mother Nature is playing hard ball, for sure. This calls for resilience.

The jury is still out on whether the blueberries will ripen. They are in fruit now, but they have never experienced killing frost in their young lives…

O’Neal blueberries beginning to ripen

Meanwhile, the garden’s chives and parsley are beautiful now, and both make for a signature chive/artichoke/walnut pesto most popular with customers. Win.

Chives and their edible flowers first thing in the spring…yummy as pesto.

My pimento cheese, buttermilk biscuits, blueberry scones, and Key Lime Pies are finding new popularity. Every Friday, I spend hours in production. Win.

I currently produce/sell 200 of these per week!

Good food, comfort food, service to the community, and entrepreneurial fervor guide me. One customer stated, “You are getting us through this!” which nearly made me weep.

My kitchen during five hours of production every Friday.

The new normal.

Meanwhile the garden reminds me that life goes on despite horror and sorrow. The butterflies lay their eggs on the Pipe vine and parsley. The chrysalises that overwintered with me, are now emerging to fly blissfully away upon the breeze. Those at risk of freezing, I now raise indoors and release on milder days.

Pipevine caterpillars munch away blissfully indoors as cold temperatures prevail outside. These I collected as eggs.

The butterfly castle houses one newly emerged Pipevine swallowtail who spent the winter in the shed as a chrysalis. I released it as the temperature rose.

The Eastern Bluebird pair successfully raised their first brood of four nestlings who fledged on May 1.

Three nestling bluebirds day nine ~ Swallowtail Cottage.

The hummers returned from their tropical retreat on April 20th. The white-throated sparrows finally left this week to migrate farther north for summer. Chipping sparrows are here now, gleaning what they can find in the mulch and under the feeder. Titmice, Northern Cardinals, Red bellied woodpeckers, and the wee Black Cap chickadees also nest and thrive. Many other wild birds grace my gardens, creating a wonderland of endless entertainment, and beautiful views from my windows.

So close your eyes, click your heels and repeat…”there is no place like home.”

For now I am safe, well, productive, and grateful.

How are you faring? How has life shifted for you?

Copyright © 2020 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

 

An Artist’s Way

Tags

garden, home, homebound, inspiration, life

Yesterday, I had a telephone conversation with a creative neighbor and the crux of the topic was: In this life, I strive to surround myself with beauty. Above all else, my eye craves divine images of nature, architecture, and wildlife. Perfection is an illusive goal. This fact I finally resigned myself to a few years ago. Yet, still I strive to surround myself with as much gorgeousness as I can muster, sans the help of a trust fund.

No more strolls amoungst grand estates of Europe, no fantastic scuba trips to the Maldives — I reside locally now and have for nearly two decades. Most of my poetry was penned in the late 1990’s before I began this single family house adventure in 2001. My Book of Garden Poems won no recognition in NYC or London. No longer do I draw and painting has fallen to the chores of this needy box. I have found creative opportunities in my kitchen and gardens. This is my first home on half an acre.

Photography helps me stay attached to my creativity, and this rural place surrounds me with endless visual opportunities. Additionally, this blog, which was born in 2011, provides a home for writing. If you are new to this blog, currently there are over 200 posts that combine both photography and prose. While you are house bound, please take time to explore the two draw-down menus within this work in progress. They are found in the left hand side of this page.

With so much global angst these days, I decided to add slices of beauty I recorded over the past nineteen years. Join me and unwind. These are my images/glimpses of near perfection.

In closing, what thought strikes me significantly this week is the fact that home is my safe place and my gardens are my sanctuary. Are you feeling safe?

Please use this time to discover newfangled ways in which to see the beauty in each and every day. We are in this together.

Your comments are always welcome.

Pleased with her investigation 2009

This single Lily-flowering Ballerina tulip is simply magnificent. I moved others and they vanished. I celebrate this lone specimen the entire week it blooms. Planted here in 2003.

the narrow gravel path is embraced by tightly shorn boxwood hedges.

I could not resist capturing how the sun played with this timber frame structure, a “duplex” that shares a central chimney.

from the front porch, I feel as though I could fly as a bird. This same view has inspired visitors since the 18th century.

I could not resist capturing this tender moment between father and infant

I could not resist this image. An enviable braid.

end of summer bouquet

Miss Kitty sighting?

Sunday mornings I crave a wee breakfast that is special; a meal that celebrates the end of a very long week.

heritage roosters feeling their oats and making an empressive show

exhilarating moments

another year has passed. Tonight we bid 2014 adieu and welcome the new year.

Across the river, we played tourist at the Capital Waterfront.

all plumped up in order to stay warm

one handsome barn

sunset one Sunday

Quite a show today in the last day of September

someone’s lovin’ life!

cairn for Miss Kitty

nestling bluebirds day nine ~ Swallowtail Cottage. Would you feed them GMO food?

PS. While you are cooped up and looking for exceptional video in 4K Ultra HD…check out this channel, Amazing Places on Our Planet on YouTube. The next best thing to being there. 😉

Copyright © 2020 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

Sunday’s monster project

Tags

DIY, garden, home, rock

This boulder/stoop looks innocent enough, yes? Slowly over the past 18 years, it settled to the right, causing a problem, since I use this door every day. Project: raise the stone on the right side three inches. Many contractor estimates were outrageously expensive, so it became a DIY with help…

It almost did not happen.

Why a man cannot follow instructions is beyond me. Even when they come from another man of professional experience!

First: The hired help arrived late Sunday, and was unprepared — without the critical stone dust and proper jack. We had agreed on all materials Friday during a phone conversation.

Second: I had to then wait another hour for him go look for supplies.

While I waited, I excavated most of the hole myself….MOI who should not be doing this kind of work as my body pain is fierce the following day, despite rest/meds.

Ready to roll. 

With my tools organized, I awaited the arrival of my hired help…a local handyman. Hurry up and wait became this project’s motto. Sooo

My wheelbarrow quickly filled with wet, heavy clay. This kind of grunt work I outgrew years ago. My mind is willing, the body, NOT SO. 

This dig required depth and undercutting the stone in order to place the bottle jack beneath the edge. 

When the guy finally returned an hour later, his rusty jacks did not work and I thought I might have to stop again and to drive to town to purchase a jack. Turned out, the guy’s son lives nearby, so helper-guy left again in search of that jack. More time to kill.

At least the afternoon was pretty and sunny, so while I waited I weeded (with tweezers) my moss patch by the shed door. (Instead of spitting nails!)

When helper returned, I asked him to place the salvaged 10″ granite square in the bottom of the hole on top of some gravel so the jack would have a solid footing…and he refused. He wanted to keep digging deeper to hit solid ground. If I had agreed, he would still be digging!

Next, he helped himself to one of my small landscape stones and when that stone quickly sank into the wet clay, I suggested the granite again. FINALLY, before I hit him in the head with a shovel, he yielded and added crusher/rock to the hole, added the granite sample, and placed the new jack on top…not in the center mind, but in a cock-eyed position. Safety first, out the window…(No photo of this event, as I had my hand on the shovel, not the camera!)

He then said “I don’t give a s—t what someone on the internet says…I am doing the job my way!” Well. OK then. I had taken advice on this project from a blog follower who built major buildings in DC. (sigh)

Turns out, the use of the gravel/granite worked and up went the boulder….right into the siding. (oops)

Following few more maneuvers with a pry bar, one slab of marble under the front of the boulder, a rectangular paver under the back edge, and a few tosses of gravel dust tamped under the end, I called it quits. Helper promises to return to tamp the edge of the dirt end after a few rains. Then a top coat of gravel will cover the repair. Time will tell.

As the afternoon faded into shade, the boulder now rests a bit more level. Shall we take bets on how long it will remain that way?

At least this dastardly boulder project is over I am without a trip hazard! Geeze! For now.

What I suffer for this (expletive) house/property!

Finally: A hot shower, two tall glasses of local stout, Tylenol, and bed with the heating pad should ease my journey.

Would you have taken on this project? Comments welcome.

Hope that your Sunday was more enjoyable than mine. 😉

Copyright © 2020 By Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

Thanksgiving…remembering love

Tags

inspiration, life, love, pets, Thanksgiving, Washington National Cathedral

This week nearing Thanksgiving, thoughts of passed people, pets, and unexplainable occurrences tiptoe into my consciousness.  Quiet trickles of images, sweetness, perfect scenarios, and moments of happiness drop in… people who showed appreciation for my talents, pets who loved unconditionally, and divine experiences that gave me a glimpse of spirit. They all circle around me now. I embrace them all.

Formosa lily blooming in early November

During what turned out to be the last weeks of my mother’s life, one afternoon I rested at the end of her bed and in silence, she simply reached down and stroked my head. No words necessary. What had often been a tumultuous relationship with years of distance and silence, we had finally reached a place silent acceptance, forgiveness, and love. Tomorrow would be her 102nd birthday.

Mother as a model in NYC.

Photo by Sindre Strøm on Pexels.com

Ragtime Rags, a doberman/lab filled my life with constant companionship for thirteen years. While young, she preferred to run ahead while I reigned a spirited horse behind her — over fields, ravines, and open space. During later life, she enjoyed our condo/air conditioned lifestyle and daily walks to the local park. In the city, strangers would cross the street when we approached. They did not notice her alert face, shiny coat, and wagging tail. Never did she pull on the leash, yet always alert kept one step ahead by my side. When she left this life, I buried her in the country, a place where I returned in 2000. Her resting place is only two miles away from Swallowtail Cottage. Her headstone resides with me.

When we were young…Ragtime Rags and I

Resting in my garden

Cinnamon was a golden retriever who resided with clients of mine. I was asked to sit with her when the couple went out. For a few years, she and I enjoyed romps on the property, as her “parents” were too fragile to go for walks on uneven terrain. While I enjoyed their pool, Cinnamon, who had a scary encounter with water as a puppy, gazed at me from the solid edge. I walked to the steps, invited her in, and with the aid of a tennis ball, she joined me in the water. I cradled her under her belly as she paddled about, then I returned her to the steps. Soaking wet, she exited, shook, and from the look on her face, I could tell we had crossed a threshold. Later reports stated that she often confidently sat on the top step of the pool, cooling her belly.

Cinnamon enjoying a plush life and deep thinking

I blogged about Miss Kitty when she left this life in 2011. Although I hosted numerous felines throughout my adult life, Miss Kitty was my true love. She had been a barn cat for her first four years, and when we met, she wanted out. We were like Velcro for eleven years. Her presence is still very much here, as she has a tool box, and keeps the icemaker going. As a spirit Kitty, she is an easy keeper. Her ashes reside on the printer in my office, one of her favorite napping spots. When I become ash, we will be sprinkled together somewhere in a beautiful garden.

Miss Kitty, the feline love of my life.

The Washington National Cathedral in Washington, DC is an ethereal place. I attended regular services there after my mother died in 1995. Arriving early, I sat in the front row, in order to take communion following the choir and before the masses who sat behind me. One bright, breezy Sunday, this position allowed me to notice an unusual light play. And by play I do not mean theatre. During this sermon, I noticed that the sunlight coming through one magnificent set of stained glass ebbed and flowed according to the cadence of the sermon. Yes, that is what occurred. This was no artificial manipulation by theatre crew.

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

Another time while in deep mourning for my mother, I knelt in the Cathedral’s small chapel reserved for loss. Not in prayer, but simply present among the tiers of glowing red votives, suddenly I felt my chest open up as if fingers were painlessly revealing my heart — no other sensation felt until I flinched and returned to reality. Never has this happened again. I often wonder what would have happened if I had stayed in that moment. Would the divine have had a message for me?

Photo by David Dibert on Pexels.com

Whatever the meaning, Thanksgiving is a time of reflection and remembrance. I welcome the trickle of happy yet somewhat bittersweet thoughts that visit now.

Are you experiencing similar thoughts this time of year? If so, please add to the comments section of this post.

Happy and safe Thanksgiving to all and may you too remember love this holiday.

Copyright © 2019 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

the garden visitor

Tags

back yard birds, eastern bluebird, garden, home, Virginia

A few weeks ago I looked out to see a newly fledged Eastern bluebird hopping around my terrace. It was alone. Normally when bluebird chicks fledge, they fly to the highest branches of the nearest tree and remain there with other members of their brood for a couple of weeks, while the adults continue to feed them.

This fledgling did not.

As a bluebird monitor, I had immediate concerns. I grabbed my camera and captured these rare shots through my storm door. I hope that you enjoy them.

So tiny in such a huge environment…this female chick contemplates her next move…notice the size of her feet!

This chick raised a ruckus to attract its parents, who wondered why this babe was not high in a tree with its nestmates.

While waiting for the adults to feed it, this chick wanted a nap. After all, these birds go from hatching to flight in merely 18 days. Quite a feat. I love the feet.

After a short flight to the terrace wall from the bench, this wee one nearly fell into the birdbath. What a face. Some mornings I wake with this same expression.

Gathering gumption, a few minutes after this shot, she managed another flight across the turf to the deep shrub border, where it landed on the ground not in a tree. Both adults were at her side during flight, another spectacular sight. I surmise that this miracle fledged too early and was not strong enough to gain altitude. Fingers crossed.

Before vanishing into the wild, this chick preened itself. I do hope she survived. She appeared to have an attitude which I hope serves her well during her lifetime.

Life is precious, and I am reminded of this every day as I witness the creatures and beauty that surround me daily. The difficult part is simply observing, as I can do nothing to change a situation like this. I must permit nature to take its course and be content with not knowing.

How glad I am to have this brief moment with my tiny garden visitor, and now this observation with my trusty camera allows sharing with you, my followers.

Have you witnessed a miracle this summer? Do tell.

Copyright © 2017 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

words cross centuries

Tags

garden, home, inspiration, life, poetry

“I never had any other desire so strong, and so like to covetousness, as that one which I have had always, that I might be master at last of a small house and a large garden.”

– Abraham Cowley, 1618-1667, English poet

Copyright © 2017 By Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

tough love

Yesterday afternoon I observed a young, lone cardinal standing on the terrace wall calling out in vain to its parents. The calls were pathetic. When any bird arrived at the hanging feeder, this young cardinal vibrated its wings and stood open-mouthed begging to be fed. To no avail. This went on for some time. Much too long for this observer.

This young cardinal is at the peak of rejection and frustration. Its parents decided this day was time it learned to feed itself. Notice the big feet and long nails…better to cling and grab. Oh my heart went out to this lone babe!

For the past five years, following the death of my beloved Miss Kitty, wild birds became the object of my affection. As a devotee, I feed custom organic seeds and dried fruit to most birds who visit. To date seventeen types of feathered beauties arrive year round for my handouts. Those of you who have followed along have seen numerous posts filled with photographs, as I attempt to capture the antics and habits of wild birds here in my central Virginia gardens.

If a bird could weep, this would be the face before tears flow.

Yesterday was no exception. It was time for the young cardinal to feed itself. MA and PA decided to get on with their lives…tough love indeed. I quickly found a small, shallow saucer and placed chopped sunflower seeds and dried currants, both a favorite of cardinals in particular, on the wall where the young bird was frequenting. Then it became a watch and wait from indoors with my camera perched on its tripod. Yes, these photos were all taken through two panes of glass and solar film.

When I had all but given up, the babe jumped onto the saucer…backwards…

then reversed it position and began eating like there was no tomorrow! Cheers went up from inside the house! It’s the small victories, yes?

The late afternoon storm had soaked the young cardinal, rendering it even more pathetic in appearance. For a few minutes I wondered if it was injured, as the top of its beak looked askew…

As the afternoon slipped into twilight, the babe feasted a few more times at the saucer and even managed to capture and devour an insect in the turf, giving me hope for its survival.

When morning arrived,  I refilled the saucer and added another filled with fresh water… then waited for Babe.

Right on que, Babe arrived at the saucer and began its morning feast. Cardinals feed early and very late. Good thing I am an early riser.

With a healthy appetite, Babe dined for many minutes, managing whole currents. I am not sure what is going on above its right leg… hopefully not an injury.

How intelligent and spry! A huge difference from the afternoon before!

How quickly this observer forms attachments!

Babe even puts up with the obnoxious finches…the bane of my feeding efforts!

Strong appetites make healthy birds. I am delighted and hopeful for Babe’s success. This is just one example why I host these beauties in my gardens. Tough love is just that. When happy transitions occur, I exhale in relief.

As days and weeks continue here at Swallowtail Cottage and the summer melts into fall, I will gaze out my kitchen windows and follow along as my wild bird saga continues.

UPDATE: Four days following this post, Babe returns daily to the feeder numerous times per day and is drinking from the water saucer nearby. That weird clump is still hanging in front of Babe’s front right leg, yet whatever it is, it does not appear to impair Babe’s functioning.

Copyright © 2016 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved