I’m referring to Pride of Madeira, the superstar of my garden!
This plant REALLY loves the environment here at Casa de Enchanted Seashells. I read that it’s becoming invasive in places along the coast and I can see how that could happen as it easily reseeds itself.
Native to Madeira Island, north of the Canary Islands, it’s a tough perennial and can survive all summer with little to no water. Since I think we’ve seen the last of our record-breaking rainfall here in SoCal, that’s exactly what they’ll have to do to survive.
And in a different part of the garden, a slightly different hue…It’s HUGE.
Bees love it too. So do hummingbirds and butterflies.
Pride of Madeira grows to about six feet tall and some of my specimens are twice as wide as they are tall.
I quite literally have dozens of baby Prides if anyone wants to plant them in their garden!
(I know that one is not really supposed to end a sentence with “in”, but the proper way sounded stilted and phony, so I made a decision based on this information: “never ending a sentence with a preposition is a myth. It’s something wrongly attributed to English that is actually a real rule in Latin.”)
So…on a walk a couple years ago, I found this chair with its turquoise-painted partner tossed out on the street. They looked lonely and sad, so I went home to get my car and rescued them both.
I placed the chairs on the side of the house with every intention of brightening them up with a new coat of paint but their weary and worn character grew on me. I’ve left them to naturally weather every storm just as they are — honest and true — with nothing to camouflage their straightforward authenticity.
I like them just the way they are.
Funny enough, I get a lot of compliments from neighbors who walk by and comment about how they love the artful way the flowers seem to embrace this simple old chair.
The Chair That No One Sits In
You see them on porches and on lawns down by the lakeside, usually arranged in pairs implying a couple
who might sit there and look out| at the water or the big shade trees. The trouble is you never see anyone
sitting in these forlorn chairs though at one time it must have seemed a good place to stop and do nothing for a while.
Sometimes there is a little table between the chairs where no one is resting a glass or placing a book facedown.
It might be none of my business, but it might be a good idea one day for everyone who placed those vacant chairs
on a veranda or a dock to sit down in them for the sake of remembering whatever it was they thought deserved
to be viewed from two chairs side by side with a table in between. The clouds are high and massive that day.
The woman looks up from her book. The man takes a sip of his drink. Then there is nothing but the sound of their looking,
the lapping of lake water, and a call of one bird then another, cries of joy or warning— it passes the time to wonder which.
William James Collins, Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003.
This full moon is all about healing, harmony, and balance. Stay grounded and peaceful as we embrace the beautiful energy of this pink moon.
“Always remember we are under the same sky, looking at the same moon.” – Maxine Lee
For some reason, none of the pictures I took of the moon came out great, so I snapped a pic of some of my favorite crystals on a pink heart dish.
I love this poem about the moon, written by Lady Montagu (1689-1762), a truly remarkable woman. In addition to her poetry and writing, she is also celebrated for introducing the smallpox inoculation to Britain, half a century before Edward Jenner developed a vaccine against the disease.
Hymn to the Moon
Thou silver deity of secret night, Direct my footsteps through the woodland shade; Thou conscious witness of unknown delight, The Lover’s guardian, and the Muse’s aid! By thy pale beams I solitary rove, To thee my tender grief confide; Serenely sweet you gild the silent grove, My friend, my goddess, and my guide …
After all the rain we’ve had here in Southern California, every bit of land is awash in springtime color.
A picturesque view of the lagoon, train tracks, and Pacific ocean through Purple Mustard, an invasive weed:
I call this plant Beach Daisy, definitely a weed, if not also invasive…
And finally, I’m impossibly happy because the wildflower seeds I planted last year in my native garden decided to sprout and present me with lovely spires of lupine:
**All photo credit belongs to Enchanted Seashells.
My crow cousins have been leaving gifts for me all around the garden and deck.
Shiny and sparkly!
So far I’ve discovered these four baubles. I always look up to see if I can catch the gift giver; so far I haven’t, but I say thank you out loud as I pocket my treasures.
Crows are known to give small gifts to people who pay attention to them or feed them. The phenomenon is actually called “gifting”. I don’t feed my local crow family as there is plenty to eat without my intervention, but I do talk to them and generally love their presence, so maybe they feel that emotion and return the affection. I’ve read that crows (and other corvids) remember the faces of those who are mean to them and those who are especially kind.
Some of my neighbors don’t appreciate our community of crows as much as I do, and I’m positive they aren’t receiving the same kinds of gifts like I am.
I’m full of gratitude to my bird family Thank you, cousins!
This is my one of my dry riverbeds. (The other one is in the front garden.) I proudly carried each and every rock and placed them with loving intention.
It’s not so dry now! Yesterday’s relentless rain had other ideas.
Casa de Enchanted Seashells gardens are alive, blooming with color and fragrance.
In one week, since the last rain, most of the fruit trees are flowering and my florals are flourishing. It brings much joy to create a bouquet from the fruits of my own efforts, a labor of love.
This lavender is vibrant!
Peaches!
Plums!
More peaches!
Apples!
We’re expecting more rain this week. 2023 has been a crazy wet year in SoCal, but it’s just what we need to end the drought for a while. The only downside is horrible seasonal allergies, but that’s a small price to pay to live in paradise.
Every year Trader Joe’s displays boxes and boxes of these beauties, ready to bring home and unfurl their sunny joy.
It only took a couple days and they’re in full, glorious display.
We had almost four more inches of rain! In Southern California! It’s unbelievable, but these yellow daffodils brighten my world. Even arranged in an old jam jar, they’re perfection.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 