Wednesday in the garden: Before the rains came

I was doing some tidy-up pruning in the garden today before an afternoon shower drove me inside. But before the pruning, I documented with my camera some of the things I saw around the garden.

There was a bit of activity at the bird feeders. These Blue Jays were checking out what was on offer at the table. They look a little disheveled because they are beginning their molt. They'll be losing all their old worn feathers and growing bright new ones.

This juvenile Red-bellied Woodpecker hasn't got his distinctive red head and belly feathers yet, but he's learned where he can find a tasty meal.

In the goldfish pond, the water lilies are flourishing.

This Giant Swallowtail butterfly was very busy on the blooms of the 'Pride of Barbados'.

These flowers are favorites of many butterflies.

The Sulphurs seem to prefer the flame acanthus (Anisacanthus wrightii) blossoms.

Sulphurs are numerous in my garden in late summer and fall.

And the Gulf Fritillaries are numerous throughout the year.

They like the flame acanthus blooms as well.

A red skimmer dragonfly came calling.

And in the pond, the newest resident decided to show himself. I think I'll call him Jeremiah.

I've been trying to get a decent picture of this bullfrog for several days, but he's never bothered to cooperate. At least today he showed me his back, and I was surprised to see the colorful pattern that the camera revealed. From a distance of ten to fifteen feet and with my naked eye, the frog just looked gray-brown.

He decided to take a stroll into the variegated lirope that borders the pond.

But he no sooner made it into the grass when his visit was cut short by Rudy, the Mighty Hunter, and he had to jump back into the pond.

And then the rains came and Rudy and I had to take cover, too.

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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