The Invisible Cow

Some flowers are shy by nature and difficult to capture in pixels.



The columbines rise high above the central rosette of foliage on wiry stems and never look up to the sun. With no backdrop, the camera has a hard time focusing on the blooms.

Their days are spent staring at their feet. Is this demure attitude a tease to pollinators that can't be resisted or is there some low flying or crawling creature they have adapted their come hither charms to?



Well I couldn't resist and made like a ground level bug as best I could without squashing any of the columbine plants and had a look up. Nice.

Why don't they want us to see that?



Other activities remain hidden in the late spring garden and only the tell tale signs let us know what has been going on. A ramp rustler snuck into the garden with a shovel and pillaged a patch of the ramps, leaving holes in the ground and a general stomping of more ramps than they dug up. Because of the wild cultivated nature of this garden there were bound to be Hyacinthoides hispanica bulbs mixed in with the missing ramps. I wonder if Hyacinthoides is poisonous?

Then there was the invisible cow with diarrhea that wandered through the newly planted roadside vegetable garden leaving a trail of sunken hoof prints and a long line of poo. Thank goodness this invisible cow did not linger or wander around in circles. Heavy cows leave major dents in moist worm enhanced soil.

I suppose I could be happy about the delivery of free fresh cow manure to the roadside vegetable garden, but I'm not. Please don't let there be feral cattle wandering these high mountains. The pelleted deer poop is much better packaging.



At times, things that may normally remain hidden or that blend well into the background can really make their presence known. The dogwoods have had a very loud spring this year.



Sedum ternatum is another nearly invisible resident of the mountain. This evergreen prostrate groundcover most often lies hidden below the taller denizens of the forest floor. In late spring before it is finally swallowed up in the rush of growth, a dazzling bloom proclaims just how much of it there is.



When you look, the invisible can be seen.