“If everything around seems dark, look again, you may be the light.”
Rumi
Sometimes all we need is the perfectly petite flower of a fragrant geranium to change darkness to light; sadness to joy — and sometimes WE are the light.
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Tag Archives: photos
Miracles and Magic
Let’s go
To where the magic waits for us
Where our hopes, our dreams
Our wishes. Come true.
Athey Thompson
Yesterday was a magical day full of miracles.
In the garden, I looked up in a tree and saw two hawks mating! (I didn’t take any photos to protect their privacy.) Last night one of the wild baby bunnies was on the deck and scratched at the screen door like it wanted to come in the house (I didn’t open the door, but I was tempted), and the third miracle is that my adorable little vireos are once again nesting in a brand new bird house!
“And as to me, I know nothing else but miracles” — Walt Whitman
Reflections: In The Garden of Thoughts
That’s one of the messages that emerged about being unplugged for almost a week…it’s important to make time to see and feel what’s in our hearts.
In solitude, there is healing.
Speak to your soul.
Listen to your heart.
Sometimes in the absence of noise we find the answers.
Mirrored on the lagoon.
Another one of my secret spots to take a break, breathe, and reflect.
Looking west toward the ocean; peaceful, not a ripple.
**Quote from a lovely little inspirational book by Dodinsky.
Photo Journey of South Lake Park
A new walking trail opened up in the city of San Marcos.
It’s inland and a bit of a drive, so it’s best to get there in the early morning or late afternoon because the temps are going up.
The trail is only a mile or so, not at all strenuous, but the views are magnificent with California lilacs and mature ceanothus surrounding the South Lake Reservoir — built in 1959, although it hasn’t been used as a source of drinking water since 1984.
I doubled back instead of completing the easier loop and that added an extra mile to the hike.
There’s a lot of coastal scrub, coots, ducks, redwing blackbirds, deer, bobcats, and coyotes. I wish I had seen deer; maybe next time! South Lake is also home to a rare native turtle; the Western Pond Turtle, and I’m sorry to say that I didn’t see them, either.
Definitely remember to bring water and a wide-brimmed hat as it gets super toasty in the sun!
Hügelkultur: Word of The Day
It’s time to prepare the garden for spring vegetables. Every year I attempt to win the battle with rodents and bugs and lack of sky water; sometimes I win, sometimes they do…
I have a couple new ideas. I purchased coconut coir bricks to rehydrate and mix with the existing soil in my raised bed and I thought I’d try cardboard box planters, too, inside the raised bed.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to build my own Hügelkultur.
“Hügelkultur” (pronounced hyoo-gul-kulture) is a German word that means mound culture or hill culture. A hügelkultur is a sloped and raised planting bed filled with topsoil, wood, and organic materials. Germans and Europeans have practiced it as a gardening method for hundreds of years.
Instead of gathering branches, leaves and grass clippings for yard waste trash pickup or to toss in the compost, build a hugel bed. Mound logs, branches, leaves, grass clippings, straw, cardboard, petroleum-free newspaper, manure, compost, or whatever other biomass you have available, top with soil and plant your veggies.
The advantages of a hugel bed are many, including:
The gradual decay of wood is a consistent source of long-term nutrients for the plants. A large bed might give out a constant supply of nutrients for decades. The composting wood also generates heat which might extend the growing season.
Logs and branches act like a sponge. Rainwater is stored and then released during drier times. Actually you may never need to water your hugel bed again after the first year (except during long term droughts).
We had a bit of rain yesterday which is a perfect opportunity to prep the coconut coir and plant seeds. I’ll start with my favorites: mixed greens, tomatoes, beets, chard and kale, cucumbers, snap peas, beans, peppers, and zucchini (of course).
There’s nothing more adorable than watching the first little sprouts emerge, right? I can’t wait!
Hügelkultur image credit to https://www.hugelkultur.com.au/intro-hugelkultur/
Photo credit to Enchanted Seashells
Dawn’s Beauty
Up at dawn, the dewy freshness of the hour,
the morning rapture of the birds,
the daily miracle of sunrise, set her heart in tune,
and gave her Nature’s most healing balm.
~ Louisa May Alcott
Because of all the rain we’ve had, spring blossoms in the garden are exceptionally lush. My Cup of Gold vine (Solandra guttata/Solandra maxima) is bursting with flowers and this gigantic dinner-plate sized golden chalice looked right at me as if to say “good morning.”
What a spectacular way to greet the day!
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.
From The Beach
What sparks joy? Two beach visits in the same day, one in the morning and one as the sun set.
No whales or dolphins I’m sad to report; but it was still a gorgeous spring morning in SoCal.
Later, the ocean was wild and loud and exhilarating.
A close up pic of the holes in the coastal beach bluff, where I sat during high tide.
Sunset surf sesh. The line of surfers parallel the horizon.
All photo credit to Enchanted Seashells.
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 Seashells by Princess Rosebud 