Little Green Tomatoes

Tiny Seeds of Goodness


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September

Southern Crownbeard (Verbesina occidentalis)

 

September is a time of deep emotional and spiritual reflection for me.

A month of magic and mystical occurrences – past and present – September is a month in which I spend a great deal of time “within”, in introspection, plugging in to my intuitive self, paying attention.

September holds anniversaries of important events and great change in my life.

Companionship gained.  Companionship lost.

Connectivity. Parting.

Sweet. Bittersweet.

Births. Deaths.

Unfinished business. Conversations still needing to take place.

Trust gained. Trust lost.

September finds me yearning for the cool crisp mornings and evenings of Midwestern Septembers, while it is still very much hot summer here in the Southeast (98 degrees Fahrenheit on 9/29/19, for Pete’s sake!).  September heat and dryness makes me weary. Dry brown and yellowing leaves have begun to drift down from the tree tops. The vibrant colors of the summer flowers have faded, for they appear to share my weariness.  No amount of water from my garden hose seems to restore their vigor.  The lawn is dry, thinning, and downright crunchy in places.

And yet, this September, a bit of “new-to-me” magic has revealed itself. This magic is very old and very wise. It springs from Mother Earth and it is good magic. It provides a very necessary food source for the wild ones and a very much appreciated source of visual beauty and a spiritual salve for me.  It is a sign of two of Mother Earth’s Superpowers – Abundance & Healing.

For, this September, late-summer blooming native plants have appeared, in abundance, in the wild places on our property, and along roadsides and “wild edges” I pass by on my daily/weekly travels.

In general, I have to think that last year’s huge amount of rainfall and subsequent daily/weekly flooding played an important part in this year’s abundant blooms.  The massive soaking that began in late August 2018 and which continued through April 2019 most likely transported and distributed seeds via overflowing ditches, creeks, and flooded rivers. The area in which we live has a “normal” annual precipitation of about 44”.  From 1/1/2018 to 12/31/2018 we received about 68” of rain and snow. Our cup runneth over. The ground remained completely saturated.  With each new rainstorm, massive trees just leaned over and laid down, their root systems pulled free of the soupy soil, leaving open craters where they had once been anchored firmly to the Earth.  Gulleys and washes formed on saturated slopes, the red clay soil exposed and slipping downward.

For sure, soil and seed landed and mixed together along banks, riparian buffers, and woodsy edges.  And the continued above-average rainfall that fell through April ensured germination and rooting.

On our small piece of property, the abundance of late-summer flowering natives and the continuing presence of all sorts of pollinators, birds, reptiles, and amphibians, is a powerful acknowledgement that we are heading in the right direction – following the lead of Mother Earth…..

 A journey that began with a succession of unintentional actions and in-actions, on our part, and which now continues with an intentional purpose of nuturing, protecting, and improving habitat…….

A journey that ballooned with feelings of frustration, blame, turmoil, and a constant swirl of ‘out-of-control / never being caught up’ thoughts and words – all mixed in and mixed up with a time of life and series of events that brought copious amounts of sadness, guilt, isolation, and grief……

A journey that opened up into comfort and joy…..just about a year ago…….

It was as if something began to gently nudge me and encourage me to look a little closer…..to see beyond the swirling thoughts and the “scorecard” I still carried with me from a much different time in my life, and a much different mindset…..to begin to notice and connect with what Mother Earth has been busily healing and re-creating during my years of distraction.

Looking back, now, with my vision and my senses much clearer than before – if only I had been able to hear her then, I’m sure she was telling me “Don’t worry, I got this! You focus on what you need to do, and let me show you what I can do! Let me run with this – I have the wisdom and the resources, and if you give me the reigns and some time, we can do great things together!”

Where the big trees came down last year, there is new growth everywhere.  I assumed that would be the case, but I have been stunned by the abundance of new growth, the variety of plants and seedling trees, and the growth rate exhibited!  I began to really take note of all the newness and the absolute flush of new green and blossoms and fungi – the healing – in the Spring months. I have continued to be amazed throughout the summer, and still now, as the dry conditions and the heat wear on into autumn.  I am very much looking forward to working outdoors this winter and into the spring – adding more native plants to stabilize and hold the streambank, removing aggressive vines and poison ivy, and adding new understory shrubs and small trees which will provide food and nesting space for the birds.  Most of all, I’m looking forward to finding out what magic and surprises Mother Earth has in store.  I’ll be paying attention, taking note, and doing my best to follow her lead.

“It may be that when we no longer know which way to go that we have come to our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings.”

~ Wendell Berry ~

 


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Sunday Coffee with Morning Glory and Hitch Hikin’ Herb

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I enjoy a good cup of coffee, with cream, please.  Not milk.  Cream.  Well, actually, my go-to choice is half & half.  I am my father’s daughter.

Funny, the things I associate with coffee….

My father always paired his “heavy on the half & half” coffee with the morning newspaper, a pencil & pad of notepaper (for crafting his daily to-do list), and, sadly, a slew of chain-smoked cigarettes.  The latter of which was largely responsible for his death.

My mother preferred to consume three cups of strong, black coffee while reading the morning newspaper from front to back.  Earlier in her life she, too, paired her coffee with a slew of chain-smoked cigarettes.  Later in life, still missing a “good cigarette” with her coffee, she busied herself with crossword puzzles and sudoku after she was finished browsing through the newspaper.

My grandma’s way of enjoying her coffee was a source of entertainment and happy giggles for me as a child.  A pretty cup and saucer were required implements for her morning routine.  She would transfer the piping hot, rather weak liquid into her cup from the percolator on the stove.  From there, the cup would be re-united with the saucer at the kitchen table, where it would sit until she had prepared her bowl of Bran Buds with sliced bananas or strawberries and milk from a glass milk bottle.  Always glass, and always delivered by the local dairy.  The bowl of cereal and grandma would proceed to the kitchen table and then the fun would begin! Once she was seated and had adjusted her pretty apron in her lap, she would pour a little bit of the hot coffee into the saucer.  She would gently swirl that weak, brown liquid in that pretty saucer for a few seconds, raise it to her lips and slurp it – tentatively at first – until the temperature was tested – and then with gusto! And, so, the cup and subsequent cups would be drained – pouring, swirling, slurping.  I loved spending the night or the weekend or an entire week in the summer at Grandma’s house.  And it was worth getting up early to enjoy her morning routine with her.

My first husband loved coffee and drank it all day long.  My second husband won’t drink the stuff, but loves the smell of it – fresh ground and brewed.

As for my dear old friends – I couldn’t tell you how they best like their coffee, but we have drained many a cup accompanied by wonderful conversation and soul-fulfilling time spent together!

And that leads me to the three cups I enjoyed this September Sunday morning.

I have some new friends to hang out with.  Their names are Morning Glory and Hitch Hikin’ Herb.  It’s so rude of me, but I really haven’t even thought of asking them if they would like to enjoy a cup while we hang out.  Where are my manners? Their cousins Rosemary, Basil, Tater, and Pea Pod seem to enjoy a good sprinkling of coffee grounds occasionally – maybe Morning Glory and Hitch Hikin’ Herb would enjoy some as well?

These new friends of mine let me do all of the talking.  After the initial “Good Morning” greeting and some small talk about the weather and how lovely they are and other celebrities who may be hanging out in the neighborhood at the moment, I run out of things to say and we just hang out, listening to the morning sounds of birds chirping, late summer bugs, and the crows chasing the red shouldered hawks above the tree tops.  I slurp my coffee while Morning Glory and Hitch Hikin’ Herb drink in the fresh morning air and the first rays of sunshine.

Morning Glory – sowed by my hand, from a package of old seeds – sprung up to embrace the light outside of the sunporch a few months ago.  She gracefully wrapped herself around the teepee I had crafted for her from Redbud branches. From there, she worked her way over to the stout Sunflower stalk who shared her space in my Can of Surprises.   Sunflower, spent and leaning at a 45 degree angle, finally succumbed to wind, rain, and the pull of gravity, leaving Morning Glory flapping in the breeze.  I pulled up the rickety old rocking chair and gently laid Morning Glory’s vines and leaves across the back of it.  She’s been busy enveloping that chair and testing new territory on the weathered bench on the other side of her can.  On September 1st she shared her first bloom and so I shared on my very first Twitter post on my new Twitter journal.

https://twitter.com/twigandposy/status/1168353511500931076  

And it has been a grand morning performance every since.

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Hitch Hikin’ Herb (given name, Desmodium), on the other hand, well, his seeds were no-doubt sowed by several of Mother Nature’s accomplices – birds, furry critters, and The Breeze, to name a few.  He is very happily hanging out in the dappled sunlight along the wild edge of wooded creek buffer.  His tiny orchid-like flowers and gracefully arching foliage are absolutely lovely to behold and seem to attract the tiniest of nectar-sipping insects.  He is a native to this part of the world, and his triangular shaped seeds will provide fall and winter food for wildlife. The pods of those seeds are responsible for his endearing nickname, as they grab and hold on to anything that brushes up against them. No doubt Herb and I will be continuing our conversations throughout Autumn and Winter and early Spring, as I walk and work amongst the trees. There will be time spent tediously removing Herb’s clinging pods from socks, shoes, trousers, and jackets. At that point I’ll need to remember the beauty of his tiny flowers and the nourishment he provides for the insects and the birds and the furry ones.

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And, I’ll SMILE as I remember the pleasure of time spent, over coffee, on a September Sunday morning.  😊

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Sadness & Healing

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Yesterday evening, nearing twilight, thinking that the hot pavement would have cooled down, I decided to walk with our dogs to the end of the road – just a short walk after a late dinner.

I could glimpse a few patches of a vivid pink glow of sunset through the trees. The end of the road would afford an unobstructed view.

As we neared a neighbor’s wooded out-lot the distinctive aroma of pine welcomed us – perfuming the still air.  Lovely. Such a pleasant, fresh gift to the senses.

Arriving at the end of the road, darkness approaching, quiet rustling and chirping coming from the woods to the south and to the east, a deep pink and salmon colored glow lay across the western horizon.  Mesmerizing shades of periwinkle, sapphire, and indigo hung above. I stood watching as the colors blended and changed – my hands full of dog leashes and without my camera or my phone – I let the feel of it soak into my vision and into my mind.  Even the dogs seemed content to just stand there.

After some minutes, the silhouettes of a neighbor and her two large protective dogs appeared at the top of a little rise in the road, and so we turned and headed back for home, feeling full of awe and contentment.

As we headed north, a mockingbird began her twilight soundtrack amidst the trees back along the creek.  As the dogs went to sniff along the ditch-line another odor appeared – an unpleasant one – the acrid chemical smell of brush killer.  As I tugged the dogs back from the ditch, in the fading light I could just barely make out the color of dead, brown, undergrowth among the trees separating two neighboring properties.

“How sad”, I thought.

Sad for all the Life there in that life-sustaining and sheltering undergrowth.

Sad for the beneficial insects & their eggs, larvae, & pupa that they work all of their short lives to create – for the next cycle of life.

Sad for the toads, lizards, turtles & snakes who depend on the undergrowth for food, shelter, dewdrops, and life-sustaining moisture to keep their bodies hydrated.

Sad for the birds who depend on the undergrowth for their nesting and for food for them and their babies.

Sad for the soil and the trees, for now there is nothing to hold the top soil in place.

Sad for the creek at the bottom of the property – for the rain that came last night surely washed chemical residue into that beautiful little source of life-sustaining water. And, with the heavy rains of autumn and winter, the loose topsoil will wash down that slope, and sediment will clog and slow the flow.

Sad for our property – adjacent and downstream.

Sad for the municipal drinking water reservoir, also downstream, for without a doubt, there are many other lots & woods & fields awash in the same chemicals between here and there.

Sad for all the wildlife who may have come into contact with, or eaten something that had been doused with those chemicals, for who knows what the effects truly are.

And, least important of all, sad for myself, because I cannot understand the need for all of the chemicals that our species spreads upon the Earth.

About 10:00 p.m. I filled up my mason jar with 24 oz. of ice water and headed out to the porch.  It was very warm there, even at that late hour, for the heat of the day had not dissipated.  The late summer night air was thick, humid, full of the songs of the summer chorus – crickets, toads, the occasional rasp of a katydid.  I rested my head back against the sofa cushions and I must have dozed off.  I suppose I might have snoozed for about 45 minutes when I became aware of being uncomfortably warm – HOT! I opened my eyes and reached for the mason jar, thinking I would retreat back in to the air-conditioned house.

Just then, a gentle puff of breeze floated through the windows, followed by a stronger rush of cooler air.  With it, the sweet, delicate scent of some summer bloom.  And then, that indescribably lovely aroma of freshly mown high grasses and wild plants – plants that I used to call weeds.  The gentle ping of raindrops on metal roofs floated in through the south windows.  And then, with the next rush of cooler air – the smell of rain.

The porch door opened and my husband, peeking out into the darkness, reported “The weatherman says it’s supposed to rain tonight”.  Replying back, out of the darkness, “I know. And it is”.

This morning, a little walk-about, down near the creek that winds through our property,  revealed the source of that sweet, delicate scent traveling on last night’s breeze. Festoons of gorgeous, fragrant white flowers have burst into bloom, attracting a whole host of bees, wasps, and butterflies (none of which wanted to pose for my photos)!

Apparently, the vine is happily thriving with additional sunlight in places previously occupied by old trees that were lost in last year’s hurricanes. It is trailing along the old chicken yard fence and blanketing understory growth in sunnier spots at the top of the streambank.

A web search for “late summer blooming vine with white flowers” produced photos identical to the images in this post.  I learned that this stunning late summer beauty is named Clematis virginiana.  It is a native plant here in the southeastern United States.  And I can see that the timing of its blooming is providing late summer food to many insects.  How lovely would it be if I can encourage it to grow up and over a rustic pergola along with native Trumpet Creeper?!

Seems this beautiful Clematis virginiana is also known by nicknames such as Devil’s Darning Needles, Virgin’s Bower, and Old Man’s Beard. Whatever its nicknames, I’ll call it a Healing Balm from Mother Nature, for its scent came to me last night and helped to sooth my profound sadness.  This morning, after seeking out the source of that soothing scent, and becoming acquainted, my mood has improved and I am, once again, amazed by Nature’s amazing Superpower!

I’ll do all that I can to help, on my little patch of land, in my no-spray zone, where the life-sustaining undergrowth is living and growing and blooming……..and healing.

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I have come to terms  with the future. 

From this day onward I will walk

easy on the earth. Plant trees. Kill 

no living things.  Live in harmony with 

all creatures. I will restore the earth

where I am. Use no more of its resources

than I need. And listen, listen to what

it is telling me. 

~ M.J. Slim Hooey ~


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A Bevy of Butterflies!

 

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This time of year, when the sun comes up in the morning it’s like the “OPEN” sign at the local diner just got switched on. The butterflies begin to flutter in to the flower beds, and it’s a feast for the eyes of this beholder.  Such lovely company to have while I’m going about my early morning watering.

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Amazingly, I only planted 4 packages of Zinnia seeds and 4 packages of Cosmos seeds!  Some packets were 3 to 5 years old, so I’m sure the germination rate was reduced.  Some of the Lantana from last year returned, and it appears that some new plants sprung up from the Lantana self seeding.  So, with very little expense & effort, these small patches of flowers are providing a good amount of food for butterflies, bees, hummingbirds, and goldfinches.  And a tremendous amount of enjoyment for the humans who are amazed by all of the busy, buzzing, humming, fluttering life surrounding us!

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The Light Changed Today

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The light changed today.

The morning air was cool and moist.

The birdsong was noticeably more quiet than usual – only the soulful call of the mourning doves on the wire and the soft chirping of female cardinals roosting in the big azaleas and privets.  And then, the beautiful melody of a wood thrush came echoing through the trees, just beyond the creek.

A low-slung mist hung heavy over the tasseled corn in the field across the road.

As the morning sky began to lighten and the first rays of the sunrise began to twinkle through the trees, the word “burnished” came in to my mind.

Dewdrops caught on the remnants of last night’s spider webs sparkled like iridescent glass in those first rays of sunlight.

I just stood there, drinking in the sights, the sounds, the feel of that first hint of Autumn – letting it seep into me.

We have plenty of hot sticky summer days to get through before Autumn truly arrives.  But change is in the air and in the light.


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Cast Iron Cooking – Chicken Enchilada Pie

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This is a delicious, simple dinner pie that can easily be cooked on a propane, charcoal, or wood burning grill, or in a conventional oven. Leftovers taste just as good warmed up the next day!

It’s a hot July day here in North Carolina, and I like the fact that I can keep the heat out of my kitchen by using a rotisserie chicken from the grocer’s deli & baking this dinner pie outdoors in our propane grill!

Chicken Enchilada Pie 

  • 2 Tbsp canola oil
  • 1 medium sweet onion, diced
  • 3 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 can cream of chicken soup (10 ½ oz.)
  • 8 oz. sour cream
  • 3/4 cup chicken stock or chicken broth
  • 1 envelope reduced sodium taco seasoning mix (1 oz.)
  • 14 oz. frozen or canned corn (drained)
  • 14 oz. canned black beans, drained & rinsed (optional)
  • 6 cups shredded cooked chicken (rotisserie chicken from the grocer’s deli works great)
  • 1 cup (8 oz.) shredded cheddar cheese
  • 1 cup (8 oz.) shredded pepper jack or Italian blend cheese (your preference)
  • 2 refrigerated pie crusts, brought to room temperature
  1. Bring the refrigerated pie crusts to room temperature, per the instructions on the manufacturer’s packaging.
  2. Lightly grease a 10.5-inch cast iron skillet with Crisco or a small amount of canola oil. Set aside.  If you will be baking the pie in a conventional oven, preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
  3. Dice the onion. Mince the garlic. Shred the chicken and set aside.
  4. Prepare the pie filling on the stovetop. In a separate large skillet, heat 2 Tbsp of canola oil and sauté the onion over medium heat until tender. Add garlic and sauté for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Stir in cream of chicken soup, sour cream, chicken stock or broth, taco seasoning, corn, black beans, and shredded chicken. Remove from heat.
  5. Unroll and press one room-temperature pie crust into the bottom and sides of the greased cast iron skillet. Spread one half of the pie filling onto the crust. Sprinkle ½ cup of each of the shredded cheeses on top of the filling.  Unroll and place the #2 pie crust on top of the mixture.  Layer on the remaining filling, and sprinkle with the remaining shredded cheeses.
  6. Bake at 400 – 425 degrees Fahrenheit for about 35 – 45 minutes, or until pie crust edge is golden brown and cheese is bubbly and lightly browned on top.
  7. Remove from heat and let cool for about 15 minutes before serving.

Note: When I bake in our propane grill, I place the cast iron skillet on top of a pizza baking stone that is made specifically for grilling. The stone absorbs & diffuses the direct heat from the grill flames, preventing the contents of the skillet from scorching on the bottom, while giving an even heat to the cast iron.

Serve with a side salad of baby greens, slivered radish & slivered sweet onion, drizzled with a light citrusy vinaigrette for a deliciously simple summer evening meal.  My favorite beverage to bring it all together? A fresh-mixed margarita on the rocks!

Makes 6 to 8 servings.  Approximately 1.5 hours to prepare – 30 minutes to prep, about an hour cooking & cooling time.


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Giving. Giving Up. Surrender.

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Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.

~  Martin Luther ~

An old friend gave a sigh of surrender and gave up Thursday afternoon – on the eve of Summer Solstice.  Gravity, a deep wound, and a hollowing heart proved to be more than she could bear.  She laid herself down in a swirling storm of wind and torrential rain.

Our neighbor often tells the story of how the tree leaned over, many years ago, in a severe storm.  The man who had planted and cared for her enlisted the help of the neighbor’s husband.  Together, they lifted her up and placed her roots back in to the earth.  We would have done the same for her.  However, that is not an option this time.

We will miss her…….

The pollinators will miss the profusion of food her blossoms offered up each Spring.  The sparrows and the nuthatches and the tufted titmice will miss the protection of her densely interwoven branches.  A whole host of wildlife, and our family dogs, will miss her imperfect, pocked, and wormy apples. The dogwood, the pecans, the crape myrtle, and the holly – her neighbors for 40-some years – will no doubt miss her presence.

I will miss her for all of the above and more……

But I will never forget the night, in late summer, about 5 or 6 years ago, looking out of the bedroom window and seeing a group of white-tailed deer, silhouetted against the silvery moonlit grass, dining upon her apples.  I don’t know what it was that awakened me that night, and compelled me to rise and look out of the window.  Maybe it was her, saying “Look!  I have something to show you! Please don’t gather up my fallen apples and put them in the trash.  For I have worked hard to produce them, and they are a bountiful feast for the deer and the opossum and the squirrel and the coyote.” I never raked up and disposed of a single fallen apple after that night.

Nor will I forget the sight of Ricky, a rescued German Shepherd Dog whom we had recently adopted, thoroughly enjoying one of life’s simple pleasures – snacking.  I smile when I remember the sight of that sweet old arthritic German Shepherd – with worn down teeth – quietly sashaying through the dappled shade of the pecan tree, making his way to the apple tree, browsing through the fallen apples, selecting the perfect one, trotting back up into the shady front yard, and lying down to enjoy his selection – core, seeds, stem and all.  A heartwarming simple pleasure for a sweet gentle boy who, a year earlier, had been left to starve by cruel stupid people who left him chained to the mobile home they had been evicted from – out in the middle of nowhere – without food or water.

And there is this…..

Thursday morning, hours before the storm arrived, I stood in the shade of the apple tree’s branches, somewhat reluctantly obliging our youngest dog while he rolled around and tossed and played with two small green apples he found lying in the grass.  As I stood there, the words “Tell my story” presented themselves very clearly to me.  And I thought “Yes, I should………I will.” Standing in that same spot on Friday morning, next to her snapped and broken trunk, I felt sad – my heart was heavy – and I felt like I too gave up, gave in, surrendered a little bit.  I gave in to some things that have been weighing heavy on my mind and in my heart.  And I gave up trying to figure it all out – fix it – see the positive – find the best solution.  I reached out and rested my hand on her fine cool bark and told her, “We will miss you.  And I surrendered a little bit today too.”

A little over a year ago, during a writing retreat, I wrote about my friend and our connection.  I’ll locate that notebook and post  the story here….soon.  For, it seems, now is the time to tell the story of The Apple Tree and Me.

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Can of Surprises

Surprise Can

I used to be afraid of the bumble bee.

Now I am afraid for the bumble bee. 

~ Nib Loblolly ~ 

I love rusty metal and galvanized tin.  There is a fair amount of both in our landscaping and on our property. (There is a dear husband of a certain dear friend of mine who may wince and shake his head if his wife reveals that I have announced my love of such metals on the world wide web. But that’s ok – he and I can agree on other “loves”, such as animals, pets, my friend, etc. 😊)

My admiration of galvanized and oxidized can be seen in my unconventional choices in garden containers. For example, I have a galvanized metal trash can that I’ve re-purposed into a large planting container.  Normally I plant some purple fountain grass and a couple of other heat-tolerant annuals in it.  But not this year. Other forces have been at work!  It has become my Can of Surprises.

First surprise: Early in April, an industrious pair of Carolina Wrens built a lovely little camouflaged nest amongst the dried foliage of last year’s fountain grass.  I was in “hands-off and observe-only” mode for several weeks while eggs were kept warm, chicks were hatched and fed, and then finally graduated to the great big world outside of the nest in the can.  Wow.  Graduation Day was nerve-wracking, as 5 little wrens came popping out of that tiny nest and scattered into bushes, onto windowsills, and into other flower pots.  Mom & Dad Wren were a  bit beside themselves, and so were our two dogs!

Surprise #2 & #3: While the wren family was occupying the can, some little wisps of green began to peek up and grow in the spot that the asparagus fern had occupied last summer. Yep, it was asparagus fern alright.  Hmmmm……I thought asparagus fern was an annual in any zone that receives below-freezing temps in winter? Then, another seedling began to grow quickly and bigley! As the stalk grew and grew, I guessed that it might have been sowed by one of our furry or feathered friends.  Yep! It’s the sunflower in the photo above – now with an inch-plus diameter stalk and eleven flowers! Most likely sprouted from a stray black oil sunflower seed that was carried off from the bird/squirrel feeders.  The bees and the goldfinches are loving it!

Surprise #4: Another volunteer seedling has appeared.  Alongside one of the morning glory seeds I poked down into the soil at the base of the sunflower stalk. After a couple of weeks of watering it, I see that it is a pokeweed plant.  No doubt from a seed deposited by a feathered friend.  The battle of the dark purple poke berries is not one I want to fight.  So, alas, it has to go.  I think the bright coral geranium our neighbor gave me will look nice in its place.

I’ll be keeping my eye on my Can of Surprises – as the morning glories twine their way up the teepee I made for them – who knows what other mysteries may unfold?

My Can of Surprises feels like another gentle nudge from Nature. 

A “look what we can do” statement. 

An invitation to open up to new ways of planting and co-existing and experiencing the miraculous wonder of life and the natural world. 

Acres and acres of land and expensive plantings not required.

All of this within the confines of a simple metal garbage can filled with potting mix. 

If you want to be inspired and forever-changed in regards to one particular miracle – the life of a bee – please feel free to listen to Colette O’Neill, co-creator of The Bealtaine Cottage Project in the west of Ireland, as she so eloquently relays a very important message.

 

 


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Radishes!

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On a whim, in late April, I sowed half a packet of six-year-old radish seeds.  Only a couple of short rows in a raised trough style planter. The packet had been languishing in a basket in the basement, along with many other packets of old seed……seeds purchased with good intentions of getting serious about establishing a viable kitchen garden, but for a variety of reasons never quite getting it accomplished.

I was surprised when many tiny green sprouts began to emerge from the soil! Not only did they grow quickly, but they grew thickly! Expecting a poor germination rate, due to the age of the seed, I had sowed more densely than recommended on the seed packet.  Then, seeing their desire to GROW! – once released from their long slumber and feeling the warm soil between their toes – I just couldn’t bring myself to pluck and thin those tiny green bits of life, as was recommended on the seed packet.  So…….I’ve been enjoying small harvests of small mild radishes for about 30 days now.  (I have since learned that the young seedlings can be enjoyed  – roots, sprouts, and leaves – in salads or as a bit of peppery crunch minced on top of crème cheese crostini.  I’ll be plucking and thinning my autumn sowing in hopes of harvesting more fully developed ruby red radishes.  And, likewise, delighting in experimenting with ways to enjoy the taste and nutritional benefits of the “pluckings”!)

Having been raised up in a family of raw radish eaters, there was never the need to explore other ways to prepare them.  My taste and tolerance for raw radish has diminished and so I’ve been experimenting with some new ways to enjoy their peppery goodness.  Two of my favorites so far:

Pan Roasted Radishes and New Red Potatoes

Ingredients:

  • Radishes, tops and tails removed, halved lengthwise
  • New red potatoes, skins on, halved or quartered
  • Fresh thyme sprigs
  • Garlic – 1 or 2 cloves, smashed, skin removed
  • Butter
  • Kosher salt
  • Extra virgin olive oil

Toss radishes and potatoes in a lightly oiled, pre-heated cast iron skillet over medium-high heat for about 2 minutes.  Lower heat to medium-low, continue to cook for about 6 – 10 minutes, until radishes and potatoes are just slightly charred & fork-tender, stirring or tumbling occasionally. Add butter, fresh thyme sprigs, and smashed garlic – all to your taste.  Increase heat to medium-high again, stirring often, allowing garlic to slightly toast.  Remove garlic and thyme stems, season with salt, and serve.

Sauteed Cabbage, Radish & Sausage with Gorgonzola

Ingredients:

  • Savoy cabbage, ½ medium sized head, chopped
  • Radishes, medium sized bunch, tops & tails removed, halved lengthwise
  • Cooked sausage, 1 or 2 links, sliced (Andouille, Bratwurst, Smoked Sausage, Kielbasa – any type of flavorful sausage that you prefer)
  • Extra virgin olive oil
  • Sea Salt
  • Fresh ground pepper
  • Gorgonzola cheese – crumbled

Generously coat bottom of skillet with olive oil and heat over medium heat. Add cabbage, radish, and sausage slices. Saute, stirring or tossing frequently, until cabbage and radishes are tender.  Sprinkle with salt and pepper, stir, remove from heat. Top individual servings with crumbled Gorgonzola and serve warm. Delicious as a left-over meal or side dish – warm or cold.  Reserve and refrigerate extra gorgonzola in a separate container from the other ingredients.  Add gorgonzola to left-overs just before serving/eating for best flavor and texture.

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Remembering Friends

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~ Let us give Thanks ~

For generous friends with hearts as big as hubbards, and smiles as bright as their blossoms;

For feisty friends, as tart as apples;

For continuous friends, who, like scallions & cucumbers, keep reminding us that we’ve had them;

For crotchety friends, as sour as rhubarb and as indestructible;

For funny friends, as silly as brussels sprouts

And serious friends, as complex as cauliflowers and as intricate as onions;

For friends as unpretentious as cabbages

and friends, like parsnips, who can be counted on to see you through the winter;

For old friends, nodding like sunflowers in the evening-time

And young friends coming on as fast as radishes;

For loving friends, who wind around us like tendrils and hold us, despite our blights, wilts, and witherings;

And, finally, for those friends now gone, but who fed us in their times that we might have life thereafter;

For this bounty of friends, we give thanks.

~ Max Coots ~

I have a calligraphy print of this lovely blessing hanging in my hallway.

I often pause to read it and I say “Amen”.

For where would I be without all of my friends?


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The Color Parade – Spring marches on

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Two weeks ago there was a Purple Parade of Spring flowers.  This week, pink, magenta, fuschia, white, and lots of yellow tree pollen have joined in the celebration.

Weaving in and out, and fluttering all about are the pollinators – always a pure joy to see.  The first hummingbird was sighted a few days ago – visiting the nectar feeder, the pansies, and the azalea.  He or she drank deeply at the feeder, perhaps tired and thirsty from the long migration journey.  Bumble, Carpenter, Solitary, and Honey bees have been busily working alongside me in the garden – I am thankful for the early flowering plants and trees that tide them over until the massive April flowering happens.  A few early Swallowtail butterflies are about as well.

Interestingly, the tiny lavender flowers of the Ground Ivy (Creeping Charlie) seem to be everyone’s favorite.  The Ground Ivy has been flowering for about 30 days now, and as one of the earliest nectar sources, it is popular because there are few other native flowering plants in abundance in mid to late March. But, even now, with an abundance of trees and plants in blossom, the humming and buzzing of the bees is most audible at the Ground Ivy.  How can I call it a weed when it feeds so many crucial contributors to an abundant environment? After pulling up armloads of it from under and around our raised garden troughs, and being aware that I was a bit unpopular for doing so (🐝🐝🐝),  we’ll wait until the flowers have faded before mowing the Creeping Charlie carpet along the ditchline, the woodsy edges, and around the Muscadine arbor.  “Anything I can do to help” – my personal Mantra – my promise to Mother Earth.

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Spicebush Swallowtail (I think) feeding on nectar of lavender Ground Ivy flowers.  My camera was having a hard time finding focus, most likely because the butterfly was fluttering his wings constantly.  But I love the colors in the photo, and it almost seems to have a dream-like quality to it.

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Dogwood blossom.

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First grape leaves unfurling.

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Montmorency cherry blossom – I would love to have enough cherries to make a cobbler this year!

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Azalea blossoms and new lime green leaves.

I thank You God for this most amazing day; for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes.

~ e.e. cummings


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United States Clean Water Act

(Updated to include exact information for time deadline on comments- 11:59 p.m. Eastern Time, April 15, 2019)

In a previous post on this blog I noted that I originally had no intention of giving any space to topics that aren’t positive, or that don’t have “seeds of goodness” encompassed within.  Tiny Seeds of Goodness is my subtitle, after all.

However, in light of current political and monetary power issues and the increased pressure certain current political and governmental actions are putting on the fragile health of our planet and all life on Earth, I feel compelled to post this. My only regret is that I didn’t post this information earlier (as April 15 is the deadline for U.S. citizens to respond to the EPA), and that I haven’t blogged about this issue continually since first hearing about it.

If you live in the southern U.S. the changes that are at risk of being made to our United States Clean Water Act should deeply concern you.  If you live in any other part of the United States, these proposed changes should deeply concern you.  If you live outside of the United States, which some of my followers and readers do, any threat to clean water should deeply concern you, as water on planet Earth is a universal requirement for life.

This video highlights the proposed changes to the Clean Water Act, as well as the ensuing effects on our environment and water supplies.

 

If you feel compelled to voice your opinions to the EPA, for their consideration of these changes, the deadline for doing so is 11:59 p.m. Eastern Time April 15, 2019.  Written comments can be submitted via the information below, copied from the EPA’s website.

The public is invited to submit written comments, identified by Docket ID No. EPA-HQ-OW-2018-0149, to the Federal eRulemaking Portal: https://www.regulations.gov. General guidance on making effective comments is available at EPA’s Commenting on EPA Dockets.

I submitted my comments earlier today.  It was the least I could do.  They are my “Tiny Seeds of Goodness” for today.

Environmental Protection Agency of the United States of America,

Clean water is a vital RIGHT of all our planet’s inhabitants, not a privilege of the very wealthy and powerful.  The Clean Water Act was put in place for a reason – those who should have been doing the RIGHT thing for our planet’s water resources were NOT. 

You are the Environmental PROTECTION Agency, and you need to do the job you are tasked with, for ALL American citizens, for the planet we ALL share.  You must NOT proceed with the proposed changes to the Clean Water Act.  If a business, developer, or industry cannot be profitable without polluting our shared water resources then that business, developer, or industry needs to either find a resource-respectful way to conduct their business or not be in business at all.  You must not proceed with the changes to the Clean Water Act as proposed under this docket.

Every part of my family’s life is affected by clean water!  Our household is sustained by ground water via a private well.  We have a small stream running through our property, alongside our vegetable garden and berry patch, which ultimately feeds in to the Haw River and the municipal water supply for nearby communities in the Piedmont of North Carolina. We have friends and family who reside in those communities. There are organizations and individuals who have been working tirelessly for decades to clean up the Haw River and bring it back to a cleaner waterway, as it has been terribly polluted and degraded by industry and sewage for a hundred years or more.  Through hard work and determination, and through regulations and monitoring, the Haw is finally a waterway that can be enjoyed by outdoor enthusiasts, tourists, and communities adjacent to it. Why on Earth would we want to backslide to a time when industry and municipalities could just send their waste and pollutants “away/down river”?  There IS NO “away/down river” – all water is connected on this planet!

In addition, the municipal water supply of the Burlington North Carolina Metro area is supplied by surface reservoirs which are fed by a network of small streams and large creeks.  Our friends and neighbors just one road away from us are served by this municipal water supply.  My husband, our friends, and co-workers drink the municipal water that serves their employer’s places of business. The kids in the schools drink that water.  Was Flint Michigan not enough of a travesty for the richest and most powerful country in the world?  Are you willing to see that scenario play out time and time again because the PROTECTIONS that you are charged with upholding are not upheld?

Aside from the human water supply impacts, I see first-hand, every day throughout all seasons, how wildlife of all sorts is drawn to the small stream that courses through our property – pollinators, amphibians, hawks, turtles, herons, all types of songbirds and migrating birds, mammals of all sorts.  Pollution in small waterways such as this stream has far reaching affects – it does not remain localized to the immediate area.

It is long past the time that large corporations, private citizens, and government agencies with the word “Protection” in their title, use foresight & respect for planet Earth, and do the right thing for all of us, now, and for future generations.  I would hope that we can see that decisions made for monetary gain, “the easy way”, and for power/control are not in the long-term best interest of all.

You must not proceed with the proposed changes to the Clean Water Act!  Do the right thing! Myself, my family, my friends, the voiceless wildlife and future generations are counting on you!

 

 

 

 


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Needlepoint View

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The way the sunlight pierced through the blossoms of this azalea just outside my window was so striking that I wanted to capture it.  But I was afraid the window screen would detract from the beauty.  Instead, I love how the screen gives the photo a needlepoint appearance!  It reminds me of the floral needlepoint and cross-stitch pillows that lovingly graced the sofas and the armchairs of my grandma’s and my adopted grandma’s living rooms.

“Sometimes it is the thing we perceive to be the problem that turns out to be the solution.”

~Nib Loblolly


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Colors of Earth – Purple!

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Sometimes when faith is running low

And I cannot fathom why things are so…

I walk alone among the flowers I grow

And learn the “answers” to all I would know!

For among my flowers I have come to see

Life’s miracle and its mystery…

And standing in silence and reverie

My faith comes flooding back to me!

~ Helen Steiner Rice, Sunshine of Joy, from my grandmother’s bookshelf

I’ve been away from my blog for a while.

Beautiful Spring weather and a very long list of yard and garden “must-dos” & “desperately want-to-dos” have turned my thoughts elsewhere. Toiling away in the fresh air and sunshine, with birdsong as my cadence – oh, such heavenly work it is! – makes for sweet deep sleep at day’s end. (In other words, I’ve been too tuckered to type by nightfall!)

Last week, while conducting Spring plant and pollinator “reconnaissance”, it occurred to me that purple seemed to be the color of the week.  And some purples appeared to be popular with the pollinators (say that 3 times fast!).

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Look at the beautiful translucent wings on this honey bee gathering nectar from the tiny lavender flowers of Ground Ivy, known to many as “Creeping Charlie”.

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Wild Violets. Perfection – with their delicate flowers and heart shaped leaves!

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More Wild Violets, Ground Ivy, and Moss cascading down the stream bank.

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Honesty Plant, I like the latin name better – Lunaria annua, self seeds in the leaf litter under the Cedar, Oak, and Tulip trees.

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Creeping Phlox – a blanket of lavender over a thick cushion of evergreen foliage.

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Pansies – blooming since late November in my window box.  What a wonderful way to greet the morning during the winter months!

 


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Winter Green

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Late Winter. One of my favorite times of the year in North Carolina!

Most of the russet Oak leaves have succumbed to wind, snow, and rain – only a very few remain in the tree tops – dancing and twirling as if invisible puppeteers dangle them from strings. The coppery Beech leaves have faded to translucent, the color of pale rose gold.

Daffodils, Pansies, and Camellias are in bloom, each lending color and beauty to the landscape. Flowering Pear and flowering Cherry – always first, and usually too early – are covered in clouds of delicate white and palest pink blossom. Saucer Magnolias – one of my favorites – reduce my vocabulary to single syllable exclamations of “ohhhhh”, “ahhhhh”, and “mmmmm”. Drifts of tiny blue Wild Flowers open to warmth on sunny slopes. Yes, Spring is almost here!

But it is the Winter Green that catches my eye today!  Grey brooding Sky, cold Mist, damp chill to the Air, the smell of woodsmoke – Winter is not finished yet.  There are treasures to behold, for it is now that the tiny ones, the unassuming ones, draw me in to the Woods. It is their turn to shine. Perfectly complimented by the silver-grey of late winter Tree trunk, Tree limb, and damp carpets of Leaves, they go quietly about their work – returning Matter back to Mother Earth and protecting Her, holding Her, with a beautiful blanket of green.

 

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The Moon and I

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There’s something about Her,

Sister Moon.

The Sun is the Sun. But, ooooh, that Moon!

She shifts and moves,

at times assertively sharing her all, at times offering only a sliver of herself.

Changing how she chooses to reflect color, knowing that subdued and subtle are her strong suits.

She has finesse.

She is coooool.

And oh, how beautiful and soft she looks in the early morning Sky,

Looking more like a reflection of Earth Herself.

Oh, if only I was as stunning as Sister Moon!

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Her Personality ~ Gravitating, Irresistible

Mine ~ not so much

Her Purpose ~ Great

Mine ~ small

Her Path ~ Confident, Serene, Knowing

Mine ~ unsure, frustrating, riddled with doubt

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And yet, she allows me to gaze upon her,

wide eyed,

unblinking,

soaking in her soft white light,

folding me in to the circle of shadows, silhouette of Trees, white-silver carpet of Grass, skittering of Leaves,

taking me back in memory……

To soft summer nights at the Lake,

to the first kiss at Water’s edge, Waves lapping and a million silver rhinestones dancing in her Light.

To autumn in farm country,

brassy Moon, slung low, so close,

the sweet smell of Alfalfa, Corn, and evening Soil thick all around.

To winter walks,

cold, quiet,

frosty clouds of Breath,

air sharp in the lungs,

dark shadow of Tree limbs on crystalline Snow,

warm glow of lamps through Jack Frost window.

To the cool of spring evenings,

pausing,

the chorus of Spring Peepers and Tree Frogs

celebrating,

moist, ready Ground,

pinkish-silver of Azalea and Redbud and Iris,

silver-grey of unfurling Leaves,

white stars of Dogwood reflecting back toward her Light.

Of respite, of no-thought, of nothing-but-thoughts.

Of a loving and a knowing so deep, so connected, that no words are necessary.

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No need for sunglasses, sunscreen, or broad-brimmed hat to bathe in her reflected light –

Only a moment, awareness, presence……and courage.

Aaaahhhh, what a sight!

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Sausage, Kale, and Orzo Soup

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In the spirit of my focus on “Souping through January”, here’s a tasty recipe.  This soup is rich with winter vegetables, seasoned sausage, and lovely orzo, all swirling around in a delicious fresh-made poultry broth. The aroma speaks to home and hearth, and there is nothing quite like a warm bowl of delicious soup, crusty artisan bread, and a Belgian beer enjoyed on a chilly January evening.

Sausage, Kale, and Orzo Soup

  • ½ pound ground Sweet Italian Sausage or Chorizo, browned and drained
  • 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1 onion, peeled & chopped
  • 1 clove garlic, peeled & minced
  • 3 carrots, peeled and sliced
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 1 teaspoon dried basil
  • ¼ teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
  • ¼ teaspoon ground chipotle
  • 1 teaspoon ground celery seed
  • 4 cups homemade poultry stock (see my Use What Ya Got Stock recipe via link)
  • 2 cups filtered water
  • ¾ cup uncooked orzo
  • 4 cups kale, rinsed, coarsely chopped, & drained
  • Fresh squeezed lemon juice, to taste
  • Shredded Parmesan, Asiago, or Romano cheese

Toss carrots, onion, and garlic with the olive oil in a heavy soup pot or dutch oven, and cook, uncovered, over medium heat, stirring frequently, until onion is tender, about 5 minutes. Some light browning adds flavor, but watch closely so that garlic doesn’t burn. Stir in the browned and drained ground sausage.  Stir in the salt, oregano, basil, crushed red pepper, chipotle, and celery seed. Continue to cook and stir for about a minute. Add the poultry stock, water, and orzo. Turn up the heat, cover, and bring to a boil. Once boiling, reduce heat to low/medium and cook, covered, at a strong simmer until the orzo is tender (about 10 to 12 minutes). Turn off the heat. Stir in the kale. Allow to sit, uncovered, for about 5 minutes.

Ladle in to bowls, top with the shredded cheese and fresh squeezed lemon juice, to taste. A thick slice of warm, crusty artisan bread is a nice accompaniment! And if you have a favorite Belgian style beer, it will pair nicely. Enjoy!

Makes 6 to 8 servings.

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To Juice or To Soup? That is the Question!

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I’ve been contemplating embarking upon a juice fast.  I understand that there are many health benefits associated with juicing. But honestly, I am more of a soup girl. Homemade soup. Made-from-scratch soup. I find the textures, shapes, and colors of soup ingredients appealing. This time of year, a bowl or mug of warm soup just makes me happy.  And then there’s that awesome aroma of a pot of soup simmering on the stove.  Mmmmm. Need I say more?

I’m scrapping the juicing, and going for souping!

As part of my continuing efforts to further reduce the amount of processed and containerized foods in my diet, not to mention the sodium contained in both, I decided to try my hand at homemade stock.  Again.  I’ve made a few batches over the years, but never stuck with it, mostly because of time constraints and the fact that good stock needs to simmer for several hours on the stove top.  Back around Thanksgiving, with a turkey carcass looking pitiful in the roasting pan, I wondered if I could use my large slow-cooker to make some stock.  I googled “stock in slow cooker”, or something like that, and guess what?  Many, many other people have had the slow cooker idea long before it floated into my mind! Go figure.

I read through a bunch of recipes on-line and perused the stock information in my Joy of Cooking cookbook.  And then I decided that even if I hadn’t invented the idea of making stock in a slow cooker, that didn’t mean I couldn’t invent my own recipe!  Sometimes I just get in the mood to not play by the rules, and I guess I was in one of those moods, because I decided to name my recipe “Use What Ya Got Stock”.  I did (use what I had on hand), and the turkey stock was delicious.  I’ve made two batches of chicken stock since (using what I had on hand), and both times it was equally delicious. Using my own stock has taken my soup game to the next level.  I highly recommend it.  Here’s a basic list of ingredients I’ve used, and the process that worked well for me. Try it – I think you might  like it!

“Use What Ya Got Stock” – Slow Cooker Recipe 

  • 1 cooked turkey or chicken carcass – bones, skin, & cartilage with most of the meat removed (deli-rotisserie chicken carcass works nicely). Cooked down drippings and bits from the roasting pan can be used as well, unless they are super greasy.
  • Raw aromatic vegetables, cut in to large chunks. Remove peel or skin.  I usually have carrots, celery, onion, and garlic on hand, and I use all of them.  I use 1 onion, 2 or 3 cloves of garlic, 3 carrots, and 3 ribs of celery.  Adjust amounts according to the size of your slow cooker crock.
  • Fresh rosemary – 3 to 5 sprigs.
  • Bay leaves – 5 to 7 leaves.
  • Whole black peppercorns – about 10.
  • Dried tarragon – about a teaspoon.
  • Chili powder – about a teaspoon.
  • Cayenne pepper – about a half teaspoon.
  • Kosher or Sea Salt – about a teaspoon.
  • I had small amounts of some herb mixes that were past their prime in my spice cabinet, so I tossed what was left of them in to the crock as well.
  • Filtered water

Place the poultry bones, skin, etc. in the slow cooker crock. Distribute the vegetables, herbs, and spices in and around the poultry parts. Add filtered water to cover all ingredients and fill the slow cooker crock to about an inch from the top.  Place the lid on the cooker, and cook on high for 1 to 2 hours, then reduce temp to low and cook overnight – about 8 to 10 hours in total.

When done cooking, remove bones and what is left of the vegetables & undissolved herbs with a large slotted spoon and allow to drain in a colander placed over a large bowl or soup pot. After the liquid is finished draining from the colander, remove and discard the solid contents of the colander.  Add the remaining liquid stock from the slow cooker to the liquid in the bowl or soup pot, and allow to cool for about 30 minutes.

Place the cooled stock in the refrigerator – in glass container(s) – do not use metal containers, cover, and leave overnight.  The next day, the fat will have risen to the top and solidified, and can be skimmed off with a spoon and discarded.  The stock itself may be gelatinous (jelly like), and this is due to the collagen that has been extracted from the cooked bones. Collagen is not fat, and is a big part of what makes homemade stock so healthy and delicious. Pour or spoon the stock in to storage containers for refrigerating or freezing.

I store stock in 16 oz mason jars with plastic screw top lids in the refrigerator for 1 to 2 weeks.  I’ll typically use 32 oz (4 cups) of stock in most of my soups, so I’ve been keeping two mason jars to refrigerate for use in the short term.  Any left-over amount of stock is placed in freezer safe containers for use at a later date.


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Whispers in the Snow

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The empty chicken coop, with its door propped open and its aged red metal exterior, whispered to me. The sight of unbroken deep snow at the back edge of the yard, along the stream buffer, brought a little flutter of sadness, a soft tug in my heart.  No deer tracks, as there had been in prior years.  No feral kitty tracks.  No rabbit tracks.  No flock of frustrated Rhode Island Reds clustered in the doorway of the coop, yacking and complaining about the white stuff on the ground.

The chickens brought so much life to the “Back 40”. In my Grandpa’s lingo, the “Back 40” referred to the 40 acres of field behind his barn.  In my slice of the world, the “Back 40” refers to the 40 yard depth of natural wooded area at the back of our property.  Not only did the chickens bring their big personalities and their industriousness, but with their presence there was food, and a little food chain flourished in their area of the Back 40:

~ The mice that, no doubt, helped themselves to a bit of the chicken feed that spilled on to the floor of the coop ~

~ The feral yellow Mama Cat (named Dinner by our 3-legged Border Collie Mix – but that’s another story) and her many kittens who lived in, around, and under the neighbor’s outbuildings, dining on a steady supply of mice, well-fed and plump from chicken feed ~

~ The black snakes who had quite a racket going with fresh eggs offered up daily ~

~ The Red Shouldered Hawk family, nesting at the top of a tall pine across the road, soaring in ever-widening circles high in the sky, no doubt dining on the snakes and the mice who had been so well-fed by the chicken’s presence ~

As I stood just outside the back door of the house, admiring the beauty of the snow, missing my beautiful chickens, my thoughts turned to the hawk family.  I had not heard their piercing calls recently, nor noticed them circling in the sky.  I had not recently noticed the hawks perched in their usual vantage points, hunting along the stream. The unusual and frequent summer & fall flooding of that stream had very likely drowned or swept away many of the frogs, toads, snakes, etc. who lived in the nooks and crannies along the steep bank.  I wondered if the hawks had moved elsewhere to find food, or, if they too had been swept away or injured in the tropical force winds or torrential downpours.

I stood there in the snow, wondering about them. Thinking back to our first winter here, noticing them daily, watching through binoculars as they took turns flying food up to their nestlings in the tall pine across the road. In that moment, I realized how much delight their continued presence had brought to our lives. And, how, as with many neighborly relationships, there were “complications”.  For, on more than one occasion (and far more than I was aware of, I’m sure), the hawks set their sights on my chickens.  There was no delight in those moments.

Those were moments in which the normally docile grey haired woman morphed into a screaming banshee – running to the rescue, waiving her arms or whatever towel, rake, or walking stick that might be handy, clapping, hooting and hollering all the way. Those were moments in which the Mother Hen in me switched in to high gear.  Those were moments in which both the hawk and my neighbors undoubtedly thought I had lost my mind. Thankfully, although the hawks traumatized the flock on a fairly regular basis, and tore up a couple of the girls pretty badly, none of the chickens perished due to hawk inflicted injuries.

The girls (and I) learned to tune in to the warning calls and behaviors of the wild birds, the neighborhood gang of crows, and the squirrels.  We learned that the hawks usually hunted along the creek and from the trees near the chicken yard twice a day – at about 9:30 or 10:00 a.m. and again about an hour or two before dusk. The girls developed a morning routine of fanning out and foraging near cover and in close proximity to the coop.  Late in the day, toward dusk, the hawks seemed disinterested in the chickens, and by that time of the day the girls were usually hanging out under the huge Japanese Holly bush that we called The Chicken Bush, or they were already in the coop, getting settled and ready to roost for the night.

It worked out.  We all co-existed. 

As I stood in the snow, late in the day on Thursday, the chicken coop whispering to me, my head and my heart full of memories of Rhode Island Reds and Red Shouldered Hawks, I felt that unbroken snow along the stream buffer beckoning me, enticing me to break through the ice encrusted top layer, leave some footprints of my own.

I made my way to the earthen bridge, each step crunching as my boot broke through the icy crust. The water in the creek was gurgling happily as it swirled around and over the rocks and exposed tree roots along the bank.  There was twittering and the sound of wings flapping as songbirds rose out of the cover along the stream bank and into the tree branches above.

I stopped at The Chicken Bush, near the gate, its branches laid low and sprawling under the weight of the wet snow.  A large rabbit broke from her cover, popped through the fence, and headed for overgrowth behind the neighbor’s tractor shed. I walked to the grapevine arbor and looked all around for signs of wild neighbors – paw prints, hoof prints – there were none.  I turned toward the chicken coop, stopping to free a couple of Redbud saplings from their heavy snow burden.  As I approached the door of the coop I expected a couple of little wrens or nuthatches to drop down from the roost above the door and zoom past my head.  Nope. Nobody.

The coop stood silent and dim inside, only the sound of a slow drip from snow melting above the entry.  Standing there, looking in, I wondered why the coop had whispered to me.  Was there something I was missing? I stood there for a moment, listening to the drip drip in the dim entry, and then turned and crunch, crunched my way back past The Chicken Bush and to the earthen bridge.

And then, there she was! Swooping and banking along the creek and through the tree branches.  I could hear the sound of the air in her wings as she pulled up and landed on the lowest branch of a young oak, not more than 15 feet from where I was crunching along.  I froze, drew in my breath sharply.  I had seen her dark eye as she steered toward her landing spot.  But now her head and her view of me was blocked by the trunk of the young tree.  I could see her fluttering her striped tail feathers – shaking them from side to side as she sat there, focusing on the creek bank, waiting for some small prey to move.  I remained absolutely still, a knot forming in my throat. Never having been so close, I literally felt her presence.

Beautiful Sister

Deadly Hunter

Fragile Miracle

Soaring Majesty

Buteo Lineatus

For some reason, I wanted to let my presence be known as well.  So I slowly leaned to my right and peaked around the tree trunk.  She caught sight of me, I saw the flash of recognition in her beautiful dark eye, and with a surprised little muffled squawk/gurgle, she rose from the branch, spread her wings, and disappeared among the trees lining the creek bank.

I stood there a moment longer, exhaled, and a smile started to form. I chuckled as I started my crunch, crunching back to the house. For I’m sure I heard her say “Eek!! It’s YOU!!  The crazy grey-haired banshee woman!” (wink)

My hand on the door latch, I turned toward the creek, wished her successful hunting, and thanked that little red chicken shed for whispering me back to the chicken yard, late in that snowy grey day, about an hour before dusk.

Be still

Listen to the whispering in your heart

And know that it is the voice of all life

– Nib Loblolly –


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Little Bits of Goodness – December 9

Pull up close by the fire my friends,

I’ll pour ye a cup o’ cider!

We’ll talk and we’ll laugh, we’ll toast, my friends,

Wassail – Waes Hael – Be Well, Good Health!

And Blessings to the Trees!

Wassail!  Lift ye cup o’ cider!

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Wassail , from Old English waes hael, is a beverage made of fruit juices, most commonly apple juice or cider, and spices, slowly heated and served warm.  The Old English waes hael means “be healthy”.  The ancient tradition of “wassailing” included singing, toasting, and drinking the beverage – to the health of the villagers and to the health of the apple trees, blessing the trees in the hopes of bountiful harvests to come.  I like the idea of acknowledging and showing appreciation for the bounty that Gaia provides! For without that bounty, where would we be?

Holiday Wassail

  • 48 ounces apple juice
  • 48 ounces cranberry juice
  • 4 cinnamon sticks
  • 1 tablespoon whole cloves
  • ¾ cup brown sugar

Place cloves in a mesh tea basket.  Add apple and cranberry juice to a large saucepan. Dissolve brown sugar in the juices.  Simmer until hot over low heat with cinnamon sticks and clove basket. If you need to keep the wassail warm for an extended perior of time, transfer to pre-warmed slow cooker, low setting.

Serve in glass mugs and garnish with a fresh cinnamon stick & orange wheel.

Wassail can be stored in refrigerator for up to one week. Remove and discard cinnamon sticks and cloves prior to storing in refrigerator.

P.S. The house will smell like heaven!  This is a great beverage to serve for a holiday open house – your guests will be greeted with the delicious yuletide aroma upon arrival!


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Little Bits of Goodness – December 7

Be kind whenever possible

It is always possible

– Dalai Lama –

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 Don’t forget you-know-who when you’re doing your holiday baking! Woof!

Peanut Butter Pup Cookies

  • 2 cups whole wheat flour
  • 1 cup oatmeal, plain, uncooked
  • ½ cup powdered buttermilk
  • ½ tsp salt
  • 1 cup natural peanut butter – with oil well incorporated (be careful NOT to use peanut butter that’s sweetened with xylitol – xylitol is toxic to dogs)
  • ¼ cup honey
  • 2 large eggs
  • ½ cup water

Combine dry ingredients in a large bowl. Add peanut butter, honey, and eggs. Beat on low until well combined. Gradually add water, beating until dough holds together.

Place dough on large sheet of parchment paper & cover with a second large sheet of parchment paper.  Using a rolling pin, roll out until dough is about ½ thick.  Slide parchment with dough on to a large cookie sheet and chill in refrigerator for 1 hour.

Remove dough from refrigerator, remove top parchment.  Preheat oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. Using a bone shaped cookie cutter (or any fun shape(s) of your choice), cut out cookies and place on a  parchment-lined baking sheet.  You can also use a cap from a soda or water bottle to make small rounds. Gather up extra dough pieces and roll out again or roll into small balls and flatten with your thumb. Use up all that luscious dough!

Bake 1 hour. Cool on rack.  Recipe makes about 20 bone-shaped cookies, 3” long.

Cheese Please Doggie Snacks 

  • 1 cup oatmeal, plain, uncooked
  • ¼ cup vegetable oil
  • 1 ½ cups hot chicken broth, low sodium or no-salt
  • ½ cup powdered buttermilk
  • 1 cup (4 oz.) grated cheddar cheese
  • ¼ teaspoon salt
  • 1 egg, beaten
  • 1 cup cornmeal
  • 1 cup wheat germ
  • 3 cups whole wheat flour

Combine oatmeal, oil, and water (or hot broth) in a large mixing bowl.  Let stand 5 minutes. Stir in powdered buttermilk, grated cheese, salt & egg. Add cornmeal and wheat germ. Mix well.  Add flour, about a half a cup at a time, incorporating well each time. After all the flour is incorporated, knead 3 to 4 minutes to make a very stiff dough.

Preheat oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit.

Roll out dough to about ½ inch thickness. Using a bone shaped cookie cutter (or any other shape(s) of your choice), cut out snacks, placing on lightly greased cookie sheet. You can also use a cap from a soda or water bottle to make small rounds. Gather up extra dough pieces and roll out again or roll into small balls and flatten with your thumb. Use up all that luscious dough!

Bake for 1 hour at 300 degrees. Turn off heat and leave the snacks in the oven for 1 hour or longer.  Recipe makes about 2 pounds of snacks.


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Little Bits of Goodness – December 2

Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.

– Robert Brault –

 Hmmmm……I can think of a bunch of little things to enjoy about small batch hand-made soaps.  To name a few – the colors, the shapes, the creamy lather, the lovely aromas, and, if you read the labels, many are vegan, they are not tested on animals, they are made with natural oils & milks, contain no sulfates, and are scented with essential oils – not chemical fragrances. And who couldn’t benefit from a little grin and a giggle when that sudsy little bar escapes and surfs across the counter top or swirls around the sink?  Remember, enjoy the little things……

Even though I’ve often thought it would be cool to make my own soap, I’ll probably never get around to it, so I’m content to buy from people who know what they’re doing.  I buy most of mine from the local berry farm – I know, who would think, right? There are also a couple of goat’s milk soap makers at nearby farmer’s markets, and their soap is lovely as well. I’ve never ordered on-line. I need to smell before I buy!

A friend who was visiting a few years ago purchased the cute soap dish in the photo from a local artisan shop. She left it on my bathroom counter, along with a nice bar of soap, for me to find after she had gone.  What a nice surprise!

There are video tutorials on-line, and loads of ideas on the web for making your own soap dishes from air-dry or oven-dry craft clay.  Crafty kids might like to make a simple soap dish for their teachers, or for auntie, or for family / friends who may be house guests during the holiday season.

Happy Holidays, and, perhaps, Happy Lathering!


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Little Bits of Goodness – December 1

Each day comes bearing its own gifts.  Untie the ribbons!

– Ruth Ann Schabacker –

 

Holiday Greetings to You!

Is there Someone in Your Life who could use a good excuse to slow down & snuggle up with a good book on a Winter’s afternoon?

Could that Someone even be You?

Do you have a favorite book by a local author?  Perhaps you have a treasured book on your shelf that you would like to share with a loved one?

 Inscribe a dated personal message inside.  Include a hand-made bookmark, or a length of beautiful ribbon.  Pair with a soft throw or a small quilt and wrap both in a lovely bow. Include a message in your best handwriting – “Untie the ribbon and enjoy the Gift in The Day!”

If you are interested in finding / reading “local”, independent bookstores usually have a section devoted to writers from the area.  Art & craft galleries often sell self-published books by regional writers.  And gift shops / visitor’s centers at state & national parks in the U.S. sell books written by regional folks as well.  Many of these locations have special holiday events with author signings, food, wine, or music.  Shopping with small businesses and shopping local not only supports your local economy, but the experience of it is also a gift to yourself!

So, if shopping in an Indie bookstore with a really catchy name appeals to you (as it does to me!), here are a few of my favorites.  Although nothing can really compare to browsing through the stacks & taking in the ambience of the space, I believe most sell books on-line as well. (Just to be clear, NO kickbacks, commissions, or credits for me here! These are simply independent booksellers that I personally enjoy shopping with.)

Battenkill Books – Cambridge, NY

Flyleaf Books – Chapel Hill, NC

McIntyre’s Books @ Fearrington Village – Pittsboro, NC

Persnickety Books – Burlington, NC

Purple Crow Books – Hillsborough, NC

Scuppernong Books – Greensboro, NC

 

 


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Little Bits of Goodness – Advent 2018

Happy Holidays!

I’ll be posting a little Gift of Inspiration for each day of Advent 2018.

Simple ways to put a bit of Goodness into The World

Quotes that embody the Spirit of the Season

Ideas that spring from my personal principle of “Triple G” – Good for Gaia, Good for the Giver, Good for the Getter

I hope you will find some inspiration here.

** Perhaps an idea for a Little Gift of Goodness for someone in Your Life **

** Perhaps a treat for Yourself **

** Perhaps a little Time together with A Loved One **

** Perhaps a way to show support for a local Business or Artist or Farmer who works hard to make The World a better place **

** Perhaps you will find Peace, Joy, or Timeless Wisdom in one of the daily quotes **

Whatever it may be – please accept my wishes for Happy Holidays and Abundant Simple Goodness!

Oh Holly Tree,

How bountiful laden with fruit are thee!

~ Nib Loblolly ~


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Of a Frosty Morn

It twas a wee bit frosty here this morning – alright, downright cold – but the clear blue sky and the golden light beckoned to me and encouraged me to bring my camera!

I continue to be amazed by the abundant seasonal beauty that reveals itself on this little patch of ground.  It was the chickens and the dogs who drew me in to it initially.  And I thank them for it.

 

As a child, I was an avid observer of nature – the environment surrounding a space, the sounds, the smells, the light.  I would spend hours wandering about my grandparent’s farm, observing the sheep from a perch on the pasture gate, exploring the barn, the edges of field, the garden…..swinging endlessly on the old wooden swing beneath the branches of a stout maple tree….dozing on the porch swing, enveloped in the crisp clean scent of the bridal wreath blossoms, listening to the bees busily collecting pollen and nectar.

Early and mid adulthood took me in other directions, and while I still always enjoyed my time outdoors in nature – in my yard, on walks, during vacation trips – I became more of a traveler through it, most of the time with a destination in mind or a task to be completed.

And then, at about age 50, the chickens and the dogs brought me back to nature; encouraged me to linger there – to just be.

Look up, look down, look closely.

Be aware of the sounds, the songs, and the warning calls of the wild birds.

Feel the curve of the dogwood tree that perfectly cradles my back when I lean against it.

Notice the abundance all around. 

I began to take note of how the tension in my neck and shoulders eased upon arrival.  How it was easier to straighten my spine, pull my shoulders back, and take a deep breath.  How the sounds of the hens cooing and clucking, scratching and pecking, soothed my frayed edges.  How observing the dogs using all of their senses – to communicate with one another and to detect the environmental details of their surroundings – reminds me that there is wisdom far greater than ours all around us, each day, each minute, each second.

This morning I spent some time resting back against the dogwood tree.

Listening to the wild birds and the squirrels going about their business.

Drinking in the golden light.

Remembering the hens and the pups who gently pulled me back to linger awhile with Mother Nature. 

And I thanked them for it.


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Remembering Ricky

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I found this delicate little bird’s nest last week, lying in the yard under one of the Willow Oaks.  I say “found”, but it really seemed as though it was placed there for me to see.  Such a tiny little work of art, with a tiny little oak leaf laying perfectly along the bottom, the entire inside lined with Ricky’s fur.

Ricky left more than his fair share of German Shepherd fur strewn about the house and the yard during shedding season.  After he died this summer, I gathered and scattered the fur he left behind on his bed. I dropped some under the Apple Tree, where he loved to pick up apples and eat them.  I scattered some under the Maple Tree, where we laid him in the shade when he couldn’t walk anymore.  I scattered some among the Creeping Phlox, where we would find him laying amongst the lavender flowers, even though I would grumble and scold him for crushing my treasured “purple flowers”. He would turn his ears and look away, as if to say, “Mission accomplished!  You’re here, standing beside me, paying attention to me.  That’s all I ever wanted.”

I held some up in the palm of my hand, at twilight, and let the breeze take it. 

And now, in late October, two weeks after the remains of Hurricane Michael blew through and tossed trees and limbs to the ground, this tiny nest is resting, intact, on the grass, as if it just fluttered down from its perch in the tree.  Carefully and lovingly crafted by a mother and perhaps a father to be a snug, cozy cradle for their little ones.  Did the tears flow when I picked it up and realized what was in it?  Oh yes, they did.  And then I smiled.  Remembering Ricky.  💖

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Colors of Earth – Persistence

On this last day of October, the sun is warm, the sky is clear blue, and the crickets are singing in the shady spots.  Almost overnight, warm tones of burgundy, burnt orange, and gold have begun to show in the tree tops.  But many of the beauties of summer remain steadfast – Colors of Persistence.

Lantana and Blue Chip Buddleia – blooming profusely since May.  A popular source of nectar for pollinators – butterflies, moths, bees, and hummingbirds – always a busy place in summer!  Shade and cover for the little Blue Tailed Skinks and Toads.

Mint, contained in a pot for sanity’s sake, & still flavoring my water, along with a little fresh lemon juice.

The 3 photos along the bottom are part of my “embracing native plants” scheme.  I stopped using any kind of herbicide or pesticide in 2001.  Considered to be weeds by many,  I find them to be beautiful.  I’ve no idea what the tiny purple flowered plant is, but it seems to be co-existing nicely with the Clover – maybe they’re working together to put nitrogen back in to the soil?  Daisy Fleabane, center photo, pops up along the fringes of mown lawn, along the creek buffer, amongst the gone-to-seed asparagus, at the base of the grapevines.  The tiny daisy-like flowers persist from June until the first hard freeze.  Cradling the Cedar logs – Creeping Charlie (Ground Ivy), spreading profusely in the shady spots, where nothing else wants to grow and hold the soil.  Ok, I admit, this one is out of control as soon as you blink your eyes!  But it persists here in the Southeast for much of the winter, holding the soil in place during winter rains, lending a bit of green to the winter landscape, and bursting in to a carpet of lavender flowers in Spring.  I’ve found that it even appears to choke out Poison Ivy.  And, since its tendrils remain on the ground, it doesn’t become a nuisance by climbing up into the shrubs and trees.  I spent many hours, dollars, and more energy than I care to admit waging battle on Ground Ivy in the past – pulling, raking, tilling, boraxing – you name it, I tried it.  I’m much happier now that I choose to see its positive attributes, instead of just the negative ones.  Perhaps there is a lesson in that for all of us, in other areas of life?

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And, here, much loved Impatiens and Licorice are still bursting out of the flower box at the kitchen window!  Greeting me in the morning while the coffee brews, brightening my thoughts while I slog through the pile of dirty dishes, providing an anchor point for the Brown Box Spider’s delicate web, and attracting insects for the Blue Tailed Skinks to  hunt from the window sill.


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Colors of Earth – Autumn

Sycamore, Oak, and Pecan leaves.  Tiny acorns from the Willow Oak.

Humongous Fungus!  Chicken of the Woods, Laetiporus sulphureus.

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Eastern Box Turtle.  Second one spotted on the property this year!  So happy you’re here, my friend!

Berries on Holly tree – just beginning to change color.  Only last week they were still shiny green.  Purple Fountain Grass.

 

 


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Aaahhh – Autumn!

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Autumn mornings: sunshine and crisp air, birds and calmness, year’s end and day’s beginnings.

~ Terri Guillemets 

This morning was a lovely, quintessential autumn morn – cloudless bright blue sky, crisp clear air, warm sunshine, a light breeze rustling the leaves. The only thing missing – autumn leaves – colored leaves.  Most of the trees and shrubs are still clothed in green. At first glance it still looks like summer!

But the birds know.  Gone are the Hummingbirds and the Wood Thrush – they have moved to their winter homes.  The bright yellow Gold Finches have donned their winter plumage.  The Blue Jays, Robins, and Eastern Bluebirds are flocking together.  This morning I counted six Blue Jays in and under the Willow Oaks, feasting on the tiny acorns.  There was a bustle of activity on the lawn, the edge of road, and the neighbor’s front lawn, as a good-sized flock of Robins and Bluebirds landed and fanned out – visiting the water saucers, looking for tasty morsels on the ground, and picking the tiny seeds out of the chickweed that I haven’t pulled out of the flower beds.

I’ve been an admirer of the feathered ones for as long as I can remember.  I am continuously amazed by them.  There is always something new to learn from observing them, listening to them, and just being aware of them.

This year, even though we have a small stream running through our property and a large pond down the road a ways, I decided to put out some water saucers for the birds and the critters.  I’ve been pleasantly surprised at the number and diversity of visitors!  Cardinals, Robins, Gold Finches, Purple Martins, Sparrows, Bluebirds…. butterflies…..beautiful Blue Mud Daubers….even a Rabbit standing on her tiptoes!

Who would have thought that such a simple offering would draw such a crowd?