Mama on the Nest

Sis and I thought we were taking a pic if eggs in a nest.

She held open the lid of the house and moved the feathers aside with a stick.
When we looked at the photos, lo and behold, mama Swallow was in there.
We were embarrassed by our bold intrusion.

We did knock first.

FLOWER is a pest.

My Wild Friends

There is action 24/7 here at Flower’s garden.

It’s hard to get any rest.

The frogs and toads are raising a ruckus out front to all hours.

Mortimer, Front Porch Frog

Just when they get done with their revelry,

my blue friend starts pecking the window out back

Blue, Back Deck Bird

It’s hard for me to be nice with so little sleep.

I guess that’s why Ricky ran away when I tried to pet him.

Ricky, running from Flower

Flow is too old for her wild friends.

I may go take a nap, while its quiet.



Snake on the Glass

There is no privacy at our house.

The bunnies had to stay in during Saturday’s storm.

Their friend came to look in on them.


I felt bad not letting this cute little guy in out of the rain.


He left after his quick check on his two furry friends.


We have such nosy neighbors.

I may have to put up some curtains.


Poppies and People

I have strong feelings about these flowers.


The seeds were a gift from an artist friend decades ago.

Bill Troutman  is no longer alive, but his poppies bloom each May to remind me of this wonderful man.

The blooms remind me of Bill, but the pods remind me of how people ruin things.


Opium can now be produced synthetically, by-passing the poppy.

Some places still use this plant’s sap to produce the drug.


Humans make the drug. Poppies are just plants.

They do what plants are supposed to do. Make flowers and seeds.

I love these poppies.


Poppies don’t make opium, people do.




Another Star in the East

This is called “Star of Bethlehem”, but it is not the weed that is native to North Carolina.

This is Ornithogalum arabicum.

Its blooms sit on a eighteen-inch stalk.

It has a lovely fragrance.

I love the shiny black eyes in the center.

Mine are planted near our walkway into the house.

It is a star in my eastern garden, though it comes from the Mediterranean.


The Burden Beauty

I love my single Peonies.

Krinkled White peony

I love their floppy petals and their dusty yellow centers.

But I adore the doubles.

Beauty can be a burden.

These blooms need staking.

They must be shaken lightly after rain to prevent broken stems.

Sarah Bernhardt Peony

I marvel at the loveliness of all those clustered petals.

Duchess de Nemours Peony

Oh, the burden of beauty!

Poor peonies.


You Can’t Move Magic

I thought that I had moved the fairy garden this spring.


I was tired of crawling around on the ground weeding.

It was too hard lying down to get those close-ups.

But you can’t move magic.

I stopped by the old tree today.  Or maybe it called me over.


I felt it immediately, the magic.

Even through all the weeds and sticks and leaves, it was magical.

So down I went on my hands and knees,


crawling around that big old tree.

Cleaning out all those nooks and crannies between the roots.


Gently brushing away debris.


If one is lucky enough to find magic,

one needs to be wise enough to know

you can’t move magic.





Taco Supreme

Taco Supreme is an iris of mystery.


The light plays tricks with the blooms all do long.

Its beige turns to peach


and its burgundy turns to red…or is it purple?


What a color-shifter it is!


Is this a trick or a talent?


Taco Supreme is a surprise.