The Japanese Holiday Tree

With dewdrops.

Random Pictures From A Rainy Life

Rabbits, deer and groundhogs have been dining at the vacant Inn all year. There were some flowers left over. Some extra rain has helped.

A hillside of Cotoneaster dammeri 'Streib's Findling' and red hibiscus where it gets warm. The varmints dine regularly in the Almighty Falls too.

The funnel-web spider on a rainy day.

It has been raining every day on the mountain top. Any stroll that may happen is slow and wet.

Spikenard, Aralia racemosa.

A Walk In The Sunshine

With the blind photographer. Just another peckerhead in a world having a nervous breakdown. Evolution of the species.

I see crocus.

Now I don't. Some damn varmint ate my crocus. Just the flowers mind you.

There are more. For now. Actually, they are all over the mountain top. There are good years and bad years. You just have to see them before they disappear. Or get eaten.

Today I saw crocus in the sunshine. It is nice to come home from work and have some daylight left. It is time for a few spring chores. A day will come.

In the sunshine of bulbs.

Has the browse line on the witch hazel gotten higher?

In the late afternoon mountain shadow, Dinah checks out 'In Hawaiian Waters'. The snowdrops are really beginning to multiply.

Glass catches the sunshine before the shadow rolls in.

The Sunlight Of Bulbs

I have no idea what these pictures will look like to people with functioning vision. When I got home the sun was shining, it was warm and the garden was all lit up. Blind or not, I was going to go see what I could see.

I do know the bulbs are rising in the warm sunshine. Can the camera capture the sunlight of bulbs?

Bright sunshine and shadow is one the worst combos for garden picture taking. But that kind of light in the forest is mesmerizing.

With secondary cataracts it is kind of blinding. I will see again soon, so might as well experience this kind of vision while I can.

The sweet scent of 'Arnold's Promise' volatized by sunlight glided through the air on a still wind.

The week of warm ahead is telling the bulbs it is spring. I looked and could not see any signs of the earliest native, the Trout Lily. I wonder why?

This is the sunlight of bulbs.

Failure Of Processes

The fire would not catch because the sticks were too wet. It will burn when it is ready.

The division of the snowdrops did not happen because they were frozen solid. It made me laugh. It took a hard stomp with the shovel to split the clumps in half. They will thaw. The soil will crumble. The division will happen.

All the more reason to marvel at 'Jelena' after the ice storm. How could you not like a flowering shrub with blooms this cold hardy.

'Arnold' has yet to achieve a complete unfurling. It creeps open in the cold.

I wander in a garden bathed in long beams of sunshine. Light dancing.

Glass catches and reflects the light.

Where snowdrops thrive in frozen ground.