Friday, June 21, 2013
Since we've already had July, I can't get too excited about the first day of summer 2013. It's here, and all the earth here in Selle is less wet than yesterday.
Talk to my flowers, though. They've taken it in the petals, and they're looking pretty depressed on this summer's morn.
I did find a few, minus the poor peony, which withstood two straight days of rain, thanks to the protective cover of a clump of poplar trees.
Let's talk snapdragons for a second. Obviously, these volunteers from last year's planting have it over that fried egg--er--daisy in the foreground.
They're so proud, and I'm even prouder to see them that way. Snapdragons have a special place in my heart.
First seeds I EVER planted were snapdragons. I think I got them started in a planting tray of sorts and watched them pop up as the tray sat in the window sill of one of my Lincoln School classrooms.
I remember proudly bringing the little green starts home and transplanting them into the garden at our North Boyer farm. I think they even grew and bloomed.
That experience---pardon the daisy/egg reference---probably hatched my love for watching things grow.
So, that proud clump of snapdragons beneath those poplars symbolizes more than just pretty flowers for me.
Behind the trees in an even more protected area, that daisy has been doing just fine and not competing with the snapdragons a few feet away.
I don't know what those flowers with pretty blue bells are, but I do know they come up every year, and they're definitely a species that begs upclose and personal inspection.
I never really noticed the blue bells the first couple of years here at the Lovestead, but one day I took some time and gained more appreciation for the intricacies of these long-stemmed perennials in the poplar patch.
In a planter not too far from the flowers, I eyed that potato plant---which I did not plant, by the way---and thought about persistence. Some plants just want to be here in all their glory, rain or shine, and this huge potato plant is no exception.
With its phenomenal growth, the potaot has completely drowned out my carrot rows, and the day will come that I will have to remove it from the planter to give the carrots a chance. For now, its dominance is impressive, especially since it's a volunteer.
As I moved away from the protected flowers and the giant potato, the pathetic peony near one of the driveway flower beds attracted my attention. Maybe the remaining blooms from its main bush can stand more proudly now that the never-ceasing, pounding rain has diminished.
The morning walk involved some conversations with Taylor's cows, and I could not help but think of my contortionist horse Lily when I saw the black-and-white mother cow risking her life while reaching for a few bites of the "greener" grass on the other side of her barbwire fence.
As for Lily, stealing that grass is less hazardous. She twists and turns and reaches beneath the boards in the barnyard or while stretching the top level of smooth wire in the pasture.
A perfect pathway of clipped off grass usually runs along every pasture fence line by summer's end around here.
And, the Taylor crew of bovines will probably also keep the grass outside their fences to a minimum as the summer moves on.
As summer moves on, we'll see more and more creatures like that black kitty above, crouching in the grass, trying their darndest to convince all passersby that they really are NOT there crouching in the grass.
They're just a figment of the passerby's imagination, so just move on.
Well, I took this kitty's word for its invisibility AFTER taking its picture. I did not notice its presence when I turned around and came back west on Selle Road, so maybe it wasn't there.
So, here we are officially in to summer with the longest day of the year. Guess I can take my time getting stuff done today because of all the daylight ahead.
Urgency of getting stuff done will come soon enough as the minutes of sunlight tick away and we're doing the countdown to winter.
Happy Summer. Happy Friday.