The Not-Giving, Hateful, Horrible Tree

This is NOT about that giving tree, Shel Silverstein’s sad apple tree who was abused and abandoned after she gave all that she had for years in her attempts to please a narcissistic little boy.

Taking a bit of a detour and as an aside to that, Angel Girl read The Giving Tree to me — well, not really READ it, but she had memorized every single word and wanted to “read” to me, just like her big brother reads to me. Too adorable, right?

Angel Boy, sitting on my other side, was quick to report in a loud whisper, “She’s not really reading like ME, Grandma, you know that, don’t you?”

I replied, “I know, T, but she wants you and I to be proud of her, so we’re just going to go along with it and praise her efforts, aren’t we?”

After she finished “reading”, we chatted a bit about what the story was all about and Angel Boy said how much he didn’t like it because it was too sad for him to think about the poor tree and Angel Girl chimed in with the same sort of commentary, “He took it all, Grandma, and all she had left was a trunk for him to sleep on when he was old. That wasn’t very nice.”

I was impressed by their empathy and compassion.

And then, because these children NEVER miss an opportunity to point things out to me, she said, “And the man in the book is WAY OLDER than you are, Grandma.”

Ha Ha Ha. Thanks for that, my angel.

Back to my rant, but before I begin, I need to make sure everyone is completely aware about how much I love trees. I don’t even hate eucalyptus trees, but they’re a menace and never should have been planted as a residential street tree, especially so close to houses. I mean, it’s not like I have a colony of koalas in my backyard that need a regular source of food, don’t you agree?

What I’m going on a tirade about is a gigantic eucalyptus tree lives in the space between my house and my next door neighbor’s driveway. It’s a city-owned tree so we can’t do anything about it. No birds nest here; even THEY don’t like it.

The California Invasive Plant Council (CAL-IPC) classifies certain eucalyptus as a “moderate” invasive.

They’re a real fire hazard and can disrupt ecological relationships among species that co-evolved over millennia, which is why many groups work to remove eucalyptus and restore coast live oaks. If that’s not bad enough, limbs fall during storms, and the euc’s shallow root system contributes to the whole tree falling, both of which have killed people.

Volatile oils in eucalyptus trees fuel more intense fires which is enough of a reason to permanently remove this tree.

They are a hazard in every sense of the word. Back in the 1900s, these trees were imported from Australia and planted with the hope that they could be harvested and sold as railroad ties. Unfortunately, eucalyptus is a brittle wood and cracks easily, therefore was unsuitable.

Eucalyptus limbs, branches, and trees regularly fall with potential catastrophic injuries. Recently, one eucalyptus as large as mine fell near our elementary school and was removed. 

Last January in San Diego at Balboa Park, a eucalyptus tree was uprooted and fell on top of a woman, obviously causing injuries. 

In 2017, A man in his seventies was killed by a branch that fell from a eucalyptus tree at Holiday Park in Carlsbad.

This tree continually drops leaves and other litter on the street, our yards, the sidewalk, and rain gutters. Roots are invasive. The leaves and other tree litter can damage vehicle paint. 

I’m really sick and tired of cleaning up this kind of tree debris every week or so.

A few neighbors and I wrote letters to the city expressing all of that and requested the tree be removed. That request was denied. This isn’t the first time we’ve made an effort to get the city to do something about it, and you would think they would be intelligent enough to remove a potentially dangerous hazard, but all they suggested was that If we wanted to spend more than one hundred dollars, we could appeal the decision, but so far, we have not done that.

I met with our councilmember and to no one’s surprise, received no help at all. I’m working on a little show-and-tell with exhibits for a future city council meeting to prove my point and will update you to share all the details about well my plan was or was NOT received. Heehee.

This tree doesn’t give apples; it gives me angst and frustration.

The Circle of Life | In Memoriam

This was one of the most heartwrenching scenarios I’ve witnessed in a really long time.

Picture me in my bedroom, folding and putting away clean laundry, when from the corner of my eye, I see movement through the window. My bedroom overlooks the garden, so I have a clear view.

I had a front row seat to watch a red tailed hawk snatch a dove out of the air, mid-flight, wrestle him to the ground, and proceed to do what birds of prey do.

It all happened in a split second as I watched, mouth agape, frozen in place. I managed to grab my phone and take one not very good photo; it’s through the screen and out of focus.

Just like this guy, most hawks practice what is known as mantling. This involves the bird spreading out its wings and covering its prey, hiding it from the eyes of other animals or larger predators that may want to steal their catch.

As quickly as it started, the drama was over, and I’m left with a circle of feathers. His/her spouse was looking all over the garden for her/him for a couple of hours, which made it all even more sad.

Predator versus prey. Rest in peace, little dove.

Later on, a tiny baby bunny was sniffing the feathers with his mom nearby, at least I think it was mom. I clapped my hands so they’d run for cover because I really didn’t want to see it happen all over again. The circle of life can be brutal.

As The Crow Flies

Family can show up in different species, too.

My crow family (I refer to them as my cousins) are getting ready for spring by building nests in the backyard trees in preparation for the next gen. They return to the same location every year.

Did you know that crows are among the smartest animals in the world? Their intelligence is similar to that of chimpanzees. A crow’s brain accounts for almost two percent of its body mass, similar to that of humans.

I talk to them all the time and it seems as if they accept me and don’t even blink an eye when we’re together in the garden, and have brought me many shiny gifts throughout the years.

This crow cousin was gathering twigs and grasses for her nest. If you look closely, you’ll see she likes pine needles, too.

Nest construction begins in early March and will continue through about June. It takes one to two weeks to finish a nest after which the female will lay a clutch of two to six eggs.

Crow nests are made mostly of pencil-width twigs. A new nest is usually about 1.5 feet across and 8-10 inches deep.  After the bulk of construction is complete, they’ll line the cup of the nest with soft materials like grass, tree bark, moss, flowers, paper, or fur. 

Both partners participate in nest construction. Helpers might aid to some degree but most of the work is left to the parents. https://corvidresearch.blog/

I help too, and gave them the fringe I cut off a pillow that I planned to recover in a different fabric.

It’s raining today, unexpectedly, because all that was forecasted was some light drizzle, and now everything is wet. I hope my crow cousin’s nest is somewhere warm and dry. I’m going to look for more nesting material they might like to use because it makes me happy to think I’m kinda sorta like THEIR family, too.

(All photo credit to Enchanted Seashells.)

Enchanted Places

“There is a garden in every childhood,
an enchanted place,
where colors are brighter,
the air is softer,
and the morning more fragrant than ever again.”

Quote by Elizabeth Lawrence
Art by Jessie Willcox Smith (1863 – 1935)
Curated from Ravenous Butterflies

Surveying a Joyful Garden

Beauty is everywhere a welcome guest.” – Goethe

Sometimes we don’t notice the beauty we’re surrounded with until we look with fresh eyes.

I was focused on a major cleanup project in the garden when I finally took a breath and looked up. It was only then that I noticed being surrounded with the joy of color. Everywhere I turned, I was greeted with the wonder of nature.

Blooming calendula…

Felicia amelloides variegata: ‘Variegated Marguerite Blue Daisy’…

“Let us come alive to the splendor that is all around us and see the beauty in ordinary things.” — Thomas Merton

 Yellow Marguerite Daisy…

…and prolific white daisy groundcover…

There’s so much to be grateful for!

Acacia in bloom…

“Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.” — A.A. Milne

You’re totally right, Piglet!

All photo credit to Enchanted Seashells

Garden Visitor: Red-shouldered Hawk

This Red-Shouldered Hawk is perched on a palm tree just over the fence in the open space.

I often see these majestic birds of prey soar high overhead or perch like this on tree branches. Its rising, whistled kee-rah is a distinctive sound. They hunt small mammals, amphibians, and reptiles.

I hope he’s looking for his next meal…he’s the very real definition of hawk-eye!

On a side note, could the sky BE any bluer? I think not.

(PS All photo credit to Enchanted Seashells)

Portrait of a Finch

My poetry professor would be proud of this haiku I wrote…

solitary finch
perched deep in the mulberry
will you stay or go?
By Princess Rosebud

This morning, I looked up into the branches of a winter-nude mulberry and couldn’t resist snapping a photo of this precious little finch.

I had to run to retrieve my phone as I willed her to stay long enough for a photo op. “Please don’t move, please don’t move, please don’t go.”

And she didn’t.

I was rewarded with a mostly monochromatic composition, which is exactly what I’d hoped for. In reality, the little bird has a yellow breast, but the quality of light turned everything almost colorless and dramatic.

My Soul Mate is a Monster

Sorry for the typo.

I meant to say my Giant Monstera is my soulmate. I certainly should have done a better job of proofreading…my bad.

This guy is the cause of my freak injury. I know I should hate him for it, but he’s so beautiful, especially when backlit by the sun.

I can’t help but love the source of my trauma, my pain.

You can’t really see it in this photo, but the reason why I raced down the stairs in slippery socks (and fell HARD) was to get the Amazon package that contained the moss poles to help my BFF climb to new heights.

When we first met (at Trader Joe’s) and fell in love, he whispered to me that a little support would make him happy. Since I love to oblige, it was an easy request to grant, however, this proclivity of mine set the stage for me to become irrevocably injured.

Deep wounds take a long time to heal, but my love for this Giant Monstera will last forever. Pretty soon I’ll need taller poles and more support because he’s growing and thriving under my care.

Love hurts, but isn’t he gorgeous? My monster(a), my soulmate.

Update on my injury: Stitches came out yesterday (after two weeks) but were replaced by a dozen Steri-strips to help the eight-inch gash finish healing, which it is,  but at a snail's pace, probably because I'm not a very patient patient. I'm a much better caregiver. The recommendation was no strenuous activity for at least two more weeks or it'll open up again and I'll need more stitches and the doc threatened me with an aircast to immobilize my leg. "Threatened" might be a SLIGHT exaggeration, but that's how I interpreted her words...

Whisper To Me

Today’s Full Wolf Moon mood…

I heard a whisper
Coming from the trees
And, in that moment
I was gone
Gone away
To return, to where I’d come from.

A little Poem by Athey Thompson
Taken from A Little Pocket Book of Poems by Athey Thompson
Photo credit to Enchanted Seashells of magical tree at Big Sur

Elusive

I spent the day in the gardens, front and back. Neighbors dropped by to chat and comment on our beautiful weather in anticipation of much needed rain.

One neighbor recently got a sweet Golden Retriever that spent too many years at a disgusting Amish puppy mill and is now living her best life. A few minutes later, a young couple walked by with a newborn, their first. Kids rode by on their bikes and e-bikes on their way to play tennis at the park.

It was a wonderful, happy, Southern California kind of day, and I got a lot of work done, filling up three yard waste cans.

Even the butterflies seemed to be more active than usual, perhaps trying to sip as much nectar as possible before the rain or a southerly migration. I tried to snap some pics but they absolutely wouldn’t stay still long enough!

It made me think of that really old song, Elusive Butterfly. It’s beautiful, sad, poignant, even melancholy, but there I was, chasing that elusive butterfly — I could so relate.

Here’s previous butterfly photos, and these guys knew how to properly model.