Mother's Day trip

We went to Little Switzerland area as a Mother's Day overnight treat. Stayed in a really funky, odd hotel built over an old moonshine still cave. Still retains a lot of its original character complete with the possibility of a wandering nighttime ghost. Superb view, we drank mocha beer (actually pretty good) ate spicy wings and watched a storm move away over the mountains with accompanying thunder, lightening, fog clouds drifting up, etc. Lots more interesting parts to the trip, but don't want to bore you. No pictures as the camera is being repaired.

We drove up to the top of Mt. Mitchel where I was able to hike/limp around a bit. While Brian went to the overlook on top, I explored the beginning of the Mountains to Sea Trail and found a heart rock! Well, it could be a butterfly. I am currently experimenting with hand spun and beads, wire to see if I can concoct you a necklace that looks as graceful and elegant, The geologist husband was intrigued, as it was a rather unusual rock. I won't spill the whole beans now, leave you guessing. Never know what rocks you will find in North Carolina. Rather exciting.

I think the knee is getting better slowly. Walking is becoming easier, and less awkward every week and there are fewer incidents of that acute burning pain I experienced. So, I will keep on the same - doing my best to loose weight, trying to gradually increase activity, etc.

Pulled a bunch of churro roving (wonder where that came from) out of various dyepots this morning. The avocados are starting to give nice colors in reds and the tulip petals are still yielding yellowy greens. Amazing amount of color in them. I shall have to start cultivating tulips.

Lots of gardening going on, rabbits hopping about the front and back gardens, exploring fence perimeters, etc. Ants starting to multiply. Everywhere! I've even got a problem on the front porch. Luckily they are sugar ants, not fire ones.

This is the loveliest spring here for many years, probably due to the extra rain.

Buddy says hello, and, oh, yeah, we went to a Powwow, but he Hated the drums, even though a cute Indian toddler exactly the same height shared potato chips with him.

There is Nothing

There is nothing like a thunderstorm. After three years of too few, I no longer take them for granted and celebrate each one that I can.

When the rain is deluging down and hitting the kitchen windows so hard it sounds like hail, when the dog haunts my footsteps because of thunder, then the world condenses. Everything becomes milky green, a washed combination of water and growth. Everything narrows and widens into this one thing, something more than water and wind and receptive soil. Twisting and beating the storm forces barriers to drop and life becomes a roar and a wetness.

There is nothing else.

Then

it passes.

Drops sparkle like original diamonds. A robin shakes herself on the fence. Thunder individuates in the east. Two birds call in stereo, liquid gurgles and splashes from the eves and downspouts. An airplane can be heard, a squirrel investigates a wet bit of pine bark, traffic splashes up and down the street.

Life breathes and resumes.

wild bunny

This morning I held a baby wild brown bunny in my palm. He, yes I checked, was small hardly able to hop through our lawn. Somehow he had gotten out of the nest too early and gotten separated from his mom. Buddy alerted me to him by sitting beside him and guarding him. There was another that was dead.

I didn't know what to do. He was young enough to still need to nurse and it is always dicey taking a wild one and hand rearing it. And what would I do with him afterwards? I have five, count them, five angora bunnies already. One of whom is a female who needs to be breed.

And why did we bother to put the fence around the veggie garden last weekend? It was specifically to keep little brown bunnies from noshing on our peas and beans and lettuce and carrots.

I held him kicking in my palm and looked into his just opened eyes, saw his tiny transparent claws and beginnings of a beautiful coat and I put him into the weeds by the fence with a wish and a hope that whatever should happen would.

But even from that brief contact, I miss him and wish him well in a world where he is Prey to most everyone.

This morning a squirrel carefully checked the perimeter of the new fence trying to find an egress point. No luck so far. Last year one climbed the sunflowers that come up every year from seed the goldfinches scatter and chewed sunflower heads. We had a very dry year last year - the third in a row - and I imagine some of his food sources weren't available.

Even though the sheltie chases birds and things, it is more in the nature of herding than catching and the wild things seem to know it.

In addition to the usual tomatoes, I am trying various squash again this year. Usually the borers get them before I get much, but I haven't grown them in a couple years, so perhaps the in ground population has died. I can always hope, right?

Amazing New Spring Colors - Natural Dyes

Some great colors from Lichen, tulips (of all things), marigolds and hibiscus. Can you tell which is which?

a Wren for Easter

This card is by a local artist - Bruce L. Bunch www.brucelbunch.com
We bought this at Trillium Saturday when we went for the opening new work there. In case you don't recognize the bird, it is a Carolina wren. We have a pair nesting every year near the back porch. For several years, they made a nest in the old gas grill that came with the house. We'd leave the lid propped open a bit and they seemed to think it ideal. The pipe rusted however, and since then, they've been nesting under the eaves and in the bushes near the back porch. They are very companionable and little afraid.

The first year Buddy the sheltie came to live with us, I would leave the back screen door propped open for him with his water and food on the porch. Somehow a bunch of flies got trapped inside the screened area. Our pair of wrens, not ones to miss an opportunity, flew in to feast. Somehow the wind blew the door shut and the birds were trapped.

By the time I noticed and went out to release them, they were so full, they couldn't fly. I could actually see the bulge in their crops. They had to waddle to the door, giving me the beady eye over their shoulders, hop down the steps and sidle into the boxwoods.

Its tough to believe how hard life is.
I can't get a firm footing, everything slides.