I really wish you could close your eyes and inhale the fragrance of these freesias. Our weather’s been hot here in SoCal and all the flowers bloomed at the same time.
Isn’t that vase adorable? I found it at a thrift shop and it’s one of my favorite things.
EXCOGITATE: To think out; devise; invent. To study intently and carefully in order to grasp or comprehend fully.
TO THIINK IN OR THINK OUT…WHAT IS YOUR METHOD?
According to wiseGEEK, to think outside the box means means to “handle a situation or challenge in an unconventional manner. The origin of the phrase is believed to date back to the 1960s, and is often associated with a famous mental puzzle called The Nine Dots.”
I’ve had a lot of jobs over the years and I’ve found that no one really wanted me to think outside the box — independently, creatively, with imagination or compassion. I felt the overwhelming corporate mantra was to agree with everything and keep quiet.
And that leads us on to another outside the box obsession of mine…
I love boxes; cardboard boxes, wooden boxes, large and small boxes. Over the years, I’ve accumulated a massive collection. (I’m not a hoarder, I’m not a hoarder, I’m NOT a hoarder. Stop thinking that!)
But a box full of Bandit was my favorite. Our poor baby died of chronic renal failure. Wasn’t she soo beautiful? Sniff.
Do you have a favorite box? What do you collect?
I was clearing out old pictures because my storage was nearly full and I thought these random photos were worth sharing.
A broken but still functional puzzle of a sidewalk…
Narcissus in bloom…
Graffitied dead end sign on someone’s front lawn…
This is another post in my continual quest to NOT allow current events to cause mental and emotional distress. I don’t actively ignore the news; instead, I’m trying to manage my visceral reactivity, if that makes sense.
I didn’t get good pics of March’s full blood moon, but look who I discovered on the deck this morning! He didn’t look too perky so I put him near a flower and hope he rallies…
The White-lined Sphinx Moth, Hyles lineata, is a common “hawk moth” (Family Sphingidae) and gigantic at almost four inches! I’ve seen them around here on very rare occasions but have mistaken them for hummingbirds because they’re so big.
Hummingbird moths are excellent, beneficial pollinators, especially for night-blooming flowers, helping gardens and ecosystems thrive, though their caterpillar stage might munch on host plants like tomatoes, a minor trade-off for their adult benefits. They are harmless to humans, mimic hummingbirds, and are crucial for plant reproduction, making them a positive addition to any pollinator-friendly yard.
Hummingbird moth symbolism often centers on luck, transformation, peace, prosperity, and longevity, appearing as a messenger for change or a sign to look closer at life’s illusions, blending butterfly themes (change) with hummingbird traits (joy, flexibility) as they are mimics of hummingbirds and symbolize a spiritual connection to nature’s deeper messages and joyful living.
Or is it the other way around?
I’ve been trying to capture this photo for a few days and my patience and persistence finally paid off. I think she’s searching for a suitable nesting site, or maybe she really thinks this hummingbird wind chime is a cousin, I dunno…
I had to snap the pic through the screen door so I wouldn’t scare her off, but I’m completely happy with the result. It’s these little joyful moments that make life worth living, don’t you agree?
I discovered a poem written by D.H. Lawrence about hummingbirds:
Humming-bird
I can imagine, in some otherworld
Primeval-dumb, far back
In that most awful stillness, that only gasped and hummed,
Humming-birds raced down the avenues.
Before anything had a soul,
While life was a heave of Matter, half inanimate,
This little bit chipped off in brilliance
And went whizzing through the slow, vast, succulent stems.
I believe there were no flowers, then
In the world where the humming-bird flashed ahead of creation.
I believe he pierced the slow vegetable veins with his long beak.
Probably he was big
As mosses, and little lizards, they say, were once big.
Probably he was a jabbing, terrifying monster.
We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time,
Luckily for us.
At times, the southwest desert seems like an otherworldly place…stark, beautiful, sort of scary.
Update: A kind reader commented and asked if this was actually a Western Bluebird (Sialia mexicana) and after some research, I’m convinced he’s correct! I automatically assumed it was the same scrub jay family that returns every year, but this is a much smaller bird.
I might rewrite this entire post to reflect the correction, but for now, as you’re reading, just replace Scrub Jay with Western Bluebird and it all works out.
My blueblue California Scrub Jay family has returned to build a nest in the tree house. While so much is WRONG in this world right now, the fact that these birds reappeared is heartwarming.
While they don’t use the same nesting material year after year, jays often return to the same location, referred to as site loyalty. They are very attached to their home ranges, and pairs often stay together for multiple years, leading them to build new nests in familiar spots within that territory.
How lucky am I that these guys feel safe here at Casa de Enchanted Seashells!
Welcome home!
I can’t resist a connection to Leon Russell. Although it’s not at all about blue birds, his song, Bluebird, is musical perfection. Sadly, I don’t think there’s a video of a live performance. https://youtu.be/Zhaq-wWykZU?si=6fegLI90ZUqI-N5q
“When I am silent, I fall into the place where everything is music.” — Rumi
Whew, it’s definitely time for a Rumi quote to bring down sky high BP.
Today is Martin Luther King Day and that petty psychopathic orange POS removed MLK Day and Juneteenth from the list of fee-free days for our national parks and replaced them with days like Flag Day (his birthday).
My governor, California’s Governor Newsom, countered by making over 200 California State Parks free on MLK Day.
Enjoy this silent and stark tree from Mt. San Jacinto near Palm Springs, California.
Silence is healing.
These clouds are works of art.
I like what Bob Ross said about painting clouds: “Let’s build us a happy, little cloud that floats around the sky.”
(Photo credit to Enchanted Seashells)
And now we welcome the new year. Full of things that have never been.
Rainer Maria Rilke
We’re getting ready for another storm but yesterday it still was sunny and warm. Check out these south-facing sandpipers, all looking in the same direction. I wonder what they’re thinking about…
Maybe they’re hoping 2026 will bring peace and harmony and love to the world. That’s my wish, too.
Do you know what a group of sandpipers is called?
There are many recognized collective nouns for a group of sandpipers:
𓅪 a bind
𓅪 a cluster
𓅪 a contradiction
𓅪 a fling
𓅪 a hill
𓅪 a time-step
My personal favorite is a “fling” of sandpipers.
𓅪 Happy 2026!
Hauʻoli Makahiki Hou
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 