In The Garden of Garden Ephemera

With The Lights On

This means war.

The pepper spray is coming out.

On The Shores of Turd Blossom Lake

I See Trilliums

What you are about to see is the forest floor waking up, a garden planted directly in meadow habitat. There have been two spring freezes this year, each having a light nip on tender new growth. The good news is the big bold foliage department and ferns have held dormancy and escaped the zap. The garden grows on. Overall this has been a gentle spring. So far.

I need to keep moving. I will leave you here to click on a picture for the slide show. People tire of looking at my garden all the time no doubt. I don't. That is what matters. A record of the 'aina for future digital archeologists.

Ten Years Later

My father died ten years ago on April 23rd 2011. Yes, I have been watching over your wife best as I know how. Hopefully I am a bit less grouchy about it than you would be. Like father like son.

 

The house you built for me stands strong. I have a crooked shed to go along with my crooked stoop now. Stuff accumulates.

A verdant garden grows. Yours is even bigger and tidier than it used to be. Found seedlings have grown to become small trees. The spring bulbs have multiplied exponentially.

Death has been chatting at me all month. When it is my time I wouldn't mind it happening, like you, in the midst of one last beautiful spring, a time of rebirth.

I am old now. Your wife is 93. My body is doing all manner of odd things these days. Last night I had a major case of the vapors, an intense dizzy spell that lasted a couple hours after a nice walk in the garden. Checked my pressure and it was good. There is a lot of pollen in the air and an unusual amount of smoke from fires in places unknown that may be the cause. I remember an intense case of the vapors a couple springs ago about this time. I had to come home from work and lay down.

As Sister #2 likes to say, as we get older none of our processes work as efficiently as the used to. My processes are losing their efficiency and I have been spoiled by a lifetime of a well functioning system.

It's been ten years. I think it is time for a fresh coat of paint on the cozy cabin we built. Now to find the energy for that.

Life along the scenic byway rolls on. If you thought the roaring thunder of motorcycles was bad back then, you should hear them now. The Rattler has become a destination ride and the touring season lasts about ten months of the year instead of being a phenomena primarily of high summer.

I have been doing my part to make things scenic.

People point, gawk and slow down to look at the house we built.

When the grasses get cut down in early spring there is a pretty open temporary view.

The roadside vegetable garden has been keeping your wife well supplied with tomatoes all these years. The cucumbers have been more problematic. We get some. Never enough.

I don't think you were still with us when a red bicycle flew up into the forest trees. I think it would make you smile or groan or both or one of the two.

It is spring again in an abundant garden and I am home where I am meant to be, living a life outside.

When it is my time,

The garden is ready for the remains of me.

Gold Mop Niwaki and the Fothergilla

The suns been out. A light freeze is coming up. Another nip. Such is the way it goes.

Syneilesis acontifolia, Shredded Umbrella Leaf.

Uvularia grandiflora, Large Flowered Bellwort

Goldenseal, Hydrastis canadensis

The anemones in my lawn. Anemone quinquefolia.

Gold Mop Niwaki and the Fothergilla.