Red-bellied Woodpecker

Blue Jay Observations

Put a glass bowl of birdseed out
for the little dudes
and found that blue jays were
the bird of the hour.

I'd never noticed
how the tips of their wings
and the whole of their tails
look like stained glass.

This particular bird
has an underbite
perhaps more evident
in pictures I didn't post.

But he seemed
hale and hearty
nonetheless.
*
I also noticed
that blue jays,
like chickens,
have fluffy bottoms.

Christmas Night

Light in the Darkness

Sunset at the Tybee Island lighthouse
Photos taken last fall during a visit.

Posted in honor of the upcoming solstice
and my great relief
that the days will get longer
and light will return.


Also honoring the Christian tradition
of Christmas celebrating
the dawning of spiritual light
in a dark and difficult world.

A Winter Reminder (with pictures from June)

The Rose of Sharon plant died last summer
after sending up a few last leaves.

Even in death it was covered with life,
providing home to mosses and lichens
and bugs.

A good reminder on the coldest day
that life is a cycle.

Even the icy snow
that covers the garden
leads to new life in the spring.

Snow in Trees

Exfoliating Bark

A few years ago
I sat under lovely shade trees
in my cousin's side yard.
I admired the trees
and my cousin's husband
asked if I would like one.
I said yes, thinking he was kidding.
Still in his tie from church,
he grabbed a shovel
and dug up a little shoot
that rode in my backseat
back to North Carolina.
That shoot grew into a small tree
as tall as the house.
I was dismayed last week
to see all the bark peeling.
I was sure this meant death.
Turns out, Drake Elm trees
shed their bark in the fall.
"Exfoliating Bark."
It is not a sign of disease,
but a normal rite of passage,
and a thing of beauty.

Misty Morning Spiders

Went out to open the chicken coop
and felt the need to go grab my camera.
The spider webs were so cool
on the garden fence.
Much of the fence
just had diagonals of spider web
here and there
and everywhere,
but some of the webs
were quite involved.
This web intrigued me.
It was between two sections of fence,
very three dimensional in form.
The top was a crosswork of webbing,
with a trampoline-like net
on the bottom.
I went back later in the day
and could see the spider
who built this web,
and the small flies
lying on the netting below,
but could not achieve focus
on the camera
in order to share an image.
I've since learned how to manually focus,
so perhaps next time
I can share.

The New Baby

Having lost the old dogwood tree
that fronted the living room window
and held the bird feeders,
we planted a new baby
that fit in the back seat area
of my little Honda Fit.

Grow, little tree.

On Chestnuts and Video Games

Our neighbor walked
down the street this weekend
sharing bread bags full of chestnuts
with all the neighbors.
They had fallen from one tree
in his family's backyard.

I asked if I could glean a few
from under the tree,
and his reply was along the lines of
"knock yourself out."


So yesterday afternoon
I paced a little grid under the tree
and I discovered
a growing sense of delight
every time I spotted a shiny brown nut.
I could feel the biochemical splash
of positive reinforcement
upon each discovery.

I realized that this is the same
biochemical reinforcer that hooks
so many people on video games.

Before my nieces and nephews
begin mocking me
for leading such a dull life
that I get excited finding chestnuts,
let us remember that
the whole reason our bodies
give this kind of rush of happy
upon discovery
is to help us survive.

Finding food
is the reason we're wired this way.

For those who came before us
(and perhaps for us in the future)
our true survival depended upon
on hunting, gathering and growing.

Here's another quirk of modern culture:
If you ask someone
how to eat a chestnut,
9 out of 10 people will say,
"Roast them over an open fire?"

Easier to cut a cross in the top
(so they don't explode while cooking
and so you can peel them easily afterwards)
and roast them in the toaster oven
at 400 degrees F for 20 minutes.

They are nutty and bland,
but they smell like heaven.
They provided last night's protein
at supper.

The Microcar Museum Pilgrimage

http://microcarmuseum.com/
Last March I finally stopped
at the Microcar museum outside of Madison, GA,
after passing it for years on my way to visit family.

It was one of the more fabulous museums
I have ever visited.
Row after row of tiny little cars,
most from Europe after WWII.

A lot of these shiny little cars
came to my waist
when I stood next to them.

If you're ever near Madison, GA,
this is a fine, fine place to go.

The Next Generation

While I garden and raise chickens
for my own eating and living pleasure,
I have something else always in mind as well:
Teaching the children.

I remember the little girl next door
digging her first potatoes,
and marching home singing,
"We will have these for supper
in the morning!"

Or teaching the little city child,
who came back in February
ready to pick strawberries again,
that food grows in its season.

Most recently,
I remember the shock
on the face of the young fellow
who mows the front yard,
when he apologized for not
cleaning up every single leaf.
I told him it was okay,
those leaves would become dirt.

It was obviously the first
he'd heard of it.

This week he mowed
when I wasn't home.
I came home to find
the grass catcher full of grass
leaning against the front door.
He came by later,
proud that he had left the clippings
for the garden.

These clippings went around the grapevine,
just as my grandmother used to put
organic material
around the base of her grapes,
creating rich soil
and sweet, juicy goodness
every summer.

Harvest and Storage

Grew black beans this year
for the first time.
One garden bed of black beans
produced exactly one pint jar
of dried beans.

Also froze romas...
canned some previously.

Canned seven quarts of green beans,
harvested honey,
pulled up onions,
cooked a squash casserole.

I want to plant a fall garden,
but it is hard to find the time.

Need to make better priorities.
And maybe build a hoop house....

Free (At Last) Range Chickens

Tonight we got out of the coop and into the yard. We dig the yard. We are Cooper (on the left above, with the brownish tail) and Iris (on the right above, with the pretty white tail).

We walked around like we owned the place.

We ate bugs and grass and goodies.

And Ethel did not eat us.