I refuse to watch the news.
The hype is exasperating.
I am quietly praying for those in harm’s way.
It is gusty here.
The chimes are singing. The trees are dancing.
My head knows something is coming.
I know not whether it is inner ear or cerebrospinal fluid.
The tide in my head is shifting.
I wait outside in the wind.
Whatever comes will come.
No technology needed.
I feel it.
FLO
There has been a new invader into my all ready weedy habitat.
Its scientific name is Phyllanthus urinaria.
Common names include chamber bitter, gripe weed, leaf flower and little mimosa.
I suspect it arrived hidden in a bale of pine needles. Sneaky little weed.
It looks like tiny mimosa trees. Its little leaflets close when touched.
It has seed pods on the underside of the stems.
I have been manually removing it until my fingers cramp.
This is what I have been doing instead of watching the constant updates
on hurricane Florence.
I am an ostrich. I can only take so many models and forecasts.
According to the MAN, Florence is tremendously big and tremendously wet. Hmmmm?
I will wait in the weeds, bitter and griping.
FLO
I thought I would like this trellis up here on the library deck.
I wanted to be able to see the bright red blooms from my desk.
I might have to put a “dummy pot” on the stand under it.
Where is the real pot?
Way down below at the base of the column.
This vine stretches out its springy tendrils and grows like crazy.
My Red Passion vine is one of my favorites.
FLOWER
Okay. I know these are not the same caterpillars as last year.
Those are long gone as Fritillary butterflies.
I grow these wild Passion vines just for them.
I have been inspecting the leaves for weeks.
I was beginning to get concerned.
Then they appeared.
Large and small. Over and under. Here and there.
Just like always.
I love them with a Passion.
FLOWER
I am away from the internet, so this will be brief.
Mr. Flower was glad to find a beer with a Volkswagen on it.
When my garden is a mess, I feel like a mess, too.
I have been too busy to take care of myself or my garden this summer.
I am glad the weather is getting cooler.
Maybe things will slow down, so I can catch up.
It’s time to get home and garden.
Flower needs to get back to her flowers.
These four gates are on display in the North Carolina Arboretum
in Asheville, North Carolina.
It is one of my favorite places on Earth.
This post features only the gates by E. Vega.
The first design includes a man fishing.
The fish is golden.
The fisherman has great details.
The second gate features a farmer with a plow being pulled by a his horse.
The two of them are working very hard.
The third gate has a tree with one golden apple.
There is a serpent twisted around the trunk.
Reminds me of a story.
The fourth and final gate has many rings with a different creature in each.
I loved each one.
If you go visit the Arboretum, do not miss these.
They are off to the right of the entrance building, around a courtyard area.
I could have easily missed them, if I weren’t such a wanderer.
The details are amazing.
This E. Vega is brilliant at capturing the details of living beings
and recreating them in metals.
These gates are heavenly!
FLOWER
Love it!
FLOWER
I searched for my old “Climbing okra” seeds to grow some again for one of my readers.
It has many other names such as Chinese okra, Egyptian cucumber and Vietnamese luffa.
Its scientific name is Luffa acutangula.
Yesterday evening, I noticed the blooms.
They do almost glow in the dark.
Bumble bees were busy zooming from bloom to bloom.
They were moving so fast that I could barely get a photo.
There are some tiny fruits, too.
I need to wait outside at dusk and see if the moths come like last time.
Thank you, Curtis Wilkinson, for prompting me to grow these again.
I am not sure how long these old seeds would have stayed viable.
I mailed out some seeds to other readers. I hope that yours have grown as well.
Hopefully these little okra/luffas will produce some more seeds for me.
FLOWER
Earlier this week, I spent hours walking the streets of Lynchburg, Virginia
and taking hundreds of photographs of historic houses, churches and gardens.
I was stopped in my tracks by this particular house.
What made me pause and put down my camera?
Why did I feel the need to sit down and then circle this property?
Did it remind me of someone’s home in my childhood years?
Was there some architectural aspect that seemed familiar?
Its facade does vaguely resemble the Moses Cone Manor in Blowing Rock, North Carolina.
Did it remind me of another mansion or plantation that I have previously photographed?
I tried to recall, but nothing came to me.
Still. Here I was standing here. Stalking an empty house in a strange city.
A middle-aged woman in sensible shoes and flowered pants lugging a camera.
(I was trending, not blending.)
This has happened before. I refer to it as a presence.
The air is thicker, everything slows, there is a peaceful pause in time.
Was it the spirit of one of the Langhornes?
Something pulled me and held me there.
I wanted to stay, but a dog barked and broke the spell.
I moved on to wander and wonder.
FLOW on the GO
floweralley 