At the neighbor’s feeder. They enjoy the seeds.
Their fluttering and cooing sounds remind me of staying at my grandmother’s when I was young. Mouthing doves have such a distinctive call. “The male’s signature “coo-OO-oo-oo” call sounds sorrowful and melancholic to human ears.”
Ten Things you might not know about mourning doves
The deer come in the night and eat the lilies. They missed one. How Shanti (6) saw the praying mantis astounds me because it looked so much like the color of the lily stem.
A reblog from July 27, 2010 and May 14, 2023 A tribute to a friend
click to see Dorothy Holley Post
I Dug Up the Iris
in Dorothy’s garden
to plant in the soaked
soil of mine, memorial
to her each spring
when they’ll open
complicated ruffles
and flourishes, purple
or blue with speckled
throats. They’ll rise
out of rhizomes
sprawling at soil’s
surface like the joints
of my old hands
anchoring the tall
stalks and frilly petals.
This morning
in the brief breath
of cool I dug shallow
trenches for this legacy,
this pantry of pollens
the bees prospect,
insects with lives
beyond what the mere
gardener knows.
Liane Ellison Norman, a Madwoman in the Attic, has published two books of poetry, The Duration of Grief and Keep (www.smokeandmirrorspress.com). She has published poems in 5AM, Kestrel, North American Review, Grasslimb, Rune, Voices from the Attic anthologies and the Pittsburgh Post Gazette. Her poem “What There’d Been” won the Wisteria Prize in 2006 from Paper Journey Press.
A Throwback Thursday post
My friend Joan passed in 2023 but this is her old fashioned pulley clothesline (with a bag to hold the pins). The original post telling of the birthday dinner she made for me – Her clothesline jumped out at me and I thought of sheets hung on the line and how quickly things dry in the summer. The refreshing scent of the sunshine.
The same type of lilies in the 2011 post, the ones I photographed blooming in her garden, are opening up fully in my dining room this week in my birthday flowers bouquet
Remembering two artists, both now deceased
Want to grow them?
Click here for Universityhttps://extension.umn.edu/flowers/calibrachoa Minnesota Extension information
The previous neighbor had planted ferns. Along his side of the driveway. I’d never planted a single fern on my side Only a couple survived on his side . Just look at the lush ferns that blew over to me.
. But look at what blew over to my side!
Shanti led the way back to where we’d parked the car. We’d met cousins Anna and Maura for lunch in Westerville. M
On the way, I did what my parents always did when I was growing up.
Notice a plant.
Name it.
And in this case rub the velvet leaf between your fingers.
Lamb’s Ear, the perennial, see below.
“Despite its unassuming appearance, lamb’s ear has quite a rich history. Another nickname, “wooly woundwort,” references its usefulness as a bandage, due to its astringent properties.
The leaves were used to dress wounds or as toilet paper in medieval times, and they were also reportedly used as bandages in the American Civil War.” From the. Gardener’s path
My neighbor Sue gave me the Iris a couple of years ago. They are so beautiful. I worried the strong rain would beat them to the ground, that the blossoms would crumple. They stood tall. The petals like velvet.
