Secrets Along The Garden Paths

   Some of the best kept secrets can be found in the garden. Each morning offers a new surprise whether in the form of baby birds, caterpillars transforming to butterflies or blooms that are there only for those who search.  My gardens are pretty much left to wild abandon as plants seem to outgrow their gardens or pots.  This "rainforest" look offers plenty of hiding spots for the critters.  Each leaf is alive with lizards, skinks and frogs, not to mention, myriads of bugs.  Turtles, snakes and toads are often found hiding in the shadiness of the winding paths of the Small Gardens.  These are friends that are welcome to reside here but its those hidden blooms that intrigue.  

  Yesterday, the turmeric plants did not disappoint.  The lush (five feet tall) leaves had to be pushed aside to see the blooms.  These appear down in the midst of the stalks and bear a great resemblance to a fleshy pinecone of bright colors.  Most in the garden are white with bright pink and yellow flowers in the bracts.  While some of the flowers are edible, there are a few that are not.  Those are strictly ornamental.  (It is best to know just what type you are growing before foraging any parts!)  Edible or not, the turmeric blooms offer a bit of whimsy along the garden path.  Most folks walk right past without ever seeing this beauty.

  Another "almost" hidden bloom was found after the turmeric bracts.  A waterlily had opened a gorgeous pink bloom but it was half hidden beneath the pads.  Usually, the blooms are on stalks that are above the floating pads (leaves) but this time that was reversed.  The pads were stalked and curled upwards while the bloom floated on the water's surface.  As a bit of added interest, all parts of the waterlily are edible, although, I have not had a whim to try them...maybe some day soon.

  Folks, there is something highly tranquil about taking a stroll down a garden path at the break of dawn and finding hidden secrets of either flora or fauna.  We all need that in the craziness of the world around us.  In the gardens...there is peace.

Edgar Allan Poe, A Black Cat and Thunderstorms

   For the past few days, we have been getting daily rains complete with thunder, lightning and wind.  The storms are soothing as I know the gardens are being well-watered.  It is during these storms that cat and I sit snuggled together enjoying each other's company.  As Prince of the Bayou, Mr. Bat demands that I hold him tightly on days like this.  He still has throwback anxiety from when some hateful person flung him from a car window during such a storm years ago.  The thunder and lightning do not bother him but the raindrops on the rooftop do.  So, my work day ends and I gladly cuddle the Prince.  What better way to spend a storm than with cat cuddles!

  Yesterday, the snuggles put me in a chair that gave me a direct view of the french doors and their colorful glass panes,  It was not long before the sun peeped out enough to give those panes a delightful glow!  To the left, Edgar Allan Poe watched over us as the lamp softly glowed beneath him.  This vision brought comfort as I thought just how much I like the way the room is decorated.  While not to many people's taste, it suits mine perfectly.  The room is filled with quaint objects such as antique lamps, furniture and clocks...lots and lots of clocks!  Then there are the quirky "finds" from thrift stores, roadsides and friends.  Nothing in this entire room meets the "expected" living room aesthetic...from the almost black walls to the red velvet loveseat and purple chairs.  It is just eccentric and eclectic enough to meet my standards...and Bat, the cat's.  He and I find comfort here among the oddities.

Somewhere Beyond the Garden Gate

   Gardens are one of few places where you can find yourself while losing yourself.  It is hard to understand that if you are only exposed to well manicured lawns and overly neat flower beds.  I have neither of those.  It is my habit of letting things grow where they may and letting them spill over to greet the other plants as they please.  Parsley visits the basil while mingling with the wild purslane.  Tomatoes have made friends with petunias and zinnias all the while shaking hands with the jasmine vines.  Squash shade the bell peppers who have a tendency to hug the garlic.  It is this way throughout the yard.  Pathways lead you everywhere...yet nowhere.  You get lost among the towering plants that are blooming with birds, bees, lizards and butterflies.  Then...you find yourself.  

 

   I meandered through the lemon trees and around the crape myrtle on my way to the vegetable plot.  The gate was almost hidden by the 6 foot tall lemon grass, the turmeric and four-o-clocks.  A slight haze had settled in over the grape vines and fig trees making the whole place look mystical.   I gathered a few tomatoes, squash and cucumbers along with a handful of herbs, I was enthralled by the way the first rays of sunlight were filtering through the branches of the old oak trees.  The entire garden was dappled with bits of glimmering hope.  Then a thought...perhaps my garden is the way the world is actually meant to be...a bit disheveled...a little bit wild and woolly...yet filled with a whole lot of love, hope and peace.  Magic grows here among the plants and critters...the magic of tranquility.

  

Red "Texas Star" Morning?

   I am one of those odd people who finds beauty in most everything around the Bayou.  For a while, it seemed as if the whole world had gone to pot and it was extremely hard to "look on the bright side".  Then, it came to me that dire outlook had to change and it was entirely up to me to change it.  So...I started finding beauty in the most mundane things just to prove to myself that whatever happens outside of my realm of the Bayou, it is not my concern.  Only what is here should be of importance since I cannot change the world but I can change myself.  Now, I make a point of seeking out what others deem as "everyday" blah and I search for happiness.  It is there.

  For instance, the other morning, there was an amazing sunrise.  While most folks will admit to the wonders of the sunlit horizon (if they are awake at that early time), not many seek how the red sky has an effect on other things.  In the garden there is a shepherd's hook that holds windchimes.  Mark brought this home from a tractor place several years ago and it has been quite useful.  I am not sure why he chose to bring a star (which looks mightily like the "Texas Star" emblem to me) but it fits right in with the mishmash of other oddities around the place.  I had just come up from the pier and plopped down on the front steps to retie my shoe when I noticed the star.  Wow!  The red sky was an amazing backdrop for the blackness of the still night shaded garden and the star!  That is lovely, I thought and had to photograph it!

  Ok, so now you get the idea of how I have rerouted my thoughts to find a bit of joy wherever it is dropped.  A purple wildflower, a dew bedecked spiderweb, a bright green treefrog or even a star lit by a rosy sunrise, there is always something worth my focus.  Folks, life is good regardless of what the outside world is doing.  People are people and will never come to terms with "how life is treating them" so I say..."Change the way you feel and find your own happiness wherever it is.  Life will only "treat" you as you treat it."  Be happy.

4am Is Calling!

   Folks are constantly questioning why I rise so early in the morning.  My answer is always "I feel better."  That is the honest truth.  My day starts at 4am and, if I linger any longer, my body starts wondering what happened.  "Hey, Woman...why are you not up yet?  Lazybones!"  Then, I guess in an effort to make me rise, aches and pains start setting in and then the brain starts shifting gears from "Let's get it done!" to "I don't wanna."  So, to avoid all of that, I rise early.  This must be a throwback to my childhood on the farm because Pop would rise at 4am and make sure that all the kids were up early to do their chores.  Mom would sleep in a bit while he "handled" things.  Once we heard that old hand-cranked coffee grinder going, we knew it was time to roll out of bed.  I smile every time I see that thing hanging on my wall!  Time to rise and shine!

  Another reason for my early rising is that I can get the indoor chores done before sunrise.  Once that time nears, I head to the pier for some peaceful "me time".  Some of my best thinking is done while watching that giant ball of fire rise up over the pines on the far side of the Bayou.  I get ideas for art/craft projects, figure out how to better the garden spots and ponder on the use of herbal concoctions.  This is the me-time that allows me to start my day in a halfway jovial manner instead of letting the worries of the world pile upon me.  Pop always told me that fretting doesn't do one bit of good so I should let go of it and just go about finding a solution to any problem.  Make sense and those early mornings give me time to hunt solutions.  Not to mention, there are some mighty pretty sights out there on the water when that sun makes its entrance.

Bayou Tranquility

   Sometimes when I view the photographs of the day's happenings, they bring back vivid memories of other times.  This morning, the rising sun streamed through the pines on the opposite shore casting shadows on the water.  Several years ago, I took almost the same photograph...then, last year, the image was nigh on identical.  The only difference is the grove of trees is getting vastly thinner with all the "progress" on new houses.  No one seems to understand that we actually NEED trees but, what they do across the way is none of my business, I suppose.  So, I turn a blind eye to the ruination of the woods and try to find a positive side of it.  This is a fault of mine.  Let others fret over what is being done since I am old and possibly won't have to deal with the outcome.  They can deal with their own mess. 

  I do not turn a blind eye to everything, however.  I am one of those weird people that just looks at things a bit differently.  I figure there is beauty in all things if we only search for it...hence, the photograph of shadows on the water.  Life is too short to go around viewing ugliness.  That brings forth only despair.  It is far better to seek out beauty and fill the spirit with tranquility.  In this old, angry world, look for serenity and happiness.  Find your peace wherever you can.  The Bayou is where I find mine.

Alone...

   Early this morning as I sat on the pier, the only feeling I had was peace.  The sunrise, the patches of fog, the quietness...all created a feeling of tranquility that only the Bayou can bring.  I felt that sense of belonging. The work day started and ended with much the same feeling...I belonged. Then, this evening, an entirely different feeling engulfed me.  It was weird.  It was not something that I usually entertain but I felt alone...entirely alone.  This is not to even be confused with loneliness...I was not lonely...I was simply alone.  The sensation that I was the only person within miles engulfed me and lingered throughout the evening.  Trust me, folks, it is a strange feeling...very strange.  Other than the ticking of the clocks and the purring of the cat, nary a sound could be heard.  No traffic on the highway to the north...no boat traffic on the Bay.  Looking out the door...nothing could be seen.  A thick blanket of fog blocked any lights from across the Bayou and even the distant shore.  Nothing. 

  This all came after a day of feeling quite accomplished since I completed every chore that I had set before myself last evening.  Laundry was done, pizza sauce had been made and home-canned, "swamp shack" (aka...greenhouse) was painted, cabbage plants were set into the rows and even an art project was started.  I should have felt on top of the world but, instead, I felt alone.  It is hard to describe.  Perhaps...it is better described as being content in solitude and not wishing to return to the frenzy of the outside world.  Alone but definitely not lonely.  I pulled Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, a bit closer and relished the solitude...the tranquility...the aloneness.

Flowerpot Alien

   Living as I do is not for everyone but, then, I am not like everyone.  In fact, I am far different than most as I prefer my solitude over having to deal with the drama of the world.  Going places has become too much effort so I stay.  Others call me eccentric but I have to admit it is those eccentricities that calm my soul.  My little bayou is my sanity.  Let me roam the swamps, sit on the pier or dig in the Small Gardens and I am one happy camper.

  Speaking of digging in the gardens, this morning as I was hilling the tomatoes, I found an odd-looking thing in the soil.  It looked mightily like some weird alien with sprawling legs and one huge eye!  Ok, so the imagination has a way of running amok at times!  This was obviously a seed of some sort that has started to sprout...but what?  It is unlike anything I planted!  Granted, I hauled nigh on 40 wheelbarrows of mulch from down the hillside so it could be anything...from anywhere since said mulch was ground from hurricane debris. 

  Well, since the seed had decided to start life in the midst of the tomato patch, there was nothing to do but move it to a better place.  The seed was potted and put on the herb shelf arbor.  There, it will stay until it can be fully identified.  If it is a "safe" plant, it will be allowed to grow but, if it is yet another highly invasive thing that washed in on the tide waters, I am not sure it should have that chance.  The place is already teeming with rattlebox, Florida betony and cogon grass that came from parts unknown.  I really do not need to have yet another fast-spreading weed occupy my gardens!  For now the "alien" will remain captive in its tiny flowerpot!

The Glorious Light

  I often claim that my predawn time on the end of the pier is my escape.  I can meditate, ready my mind and body for the day's chores and then sit back to enjoy the sunrise.  It is my "me time".  It is the time when the whole world seems at peace.  I enjoy this habit and make no excuses for keeping such odd hours.

  This morning, heavy clouds blocked out most of the sun's attempts of giving one of its glorious performances.  Instead of the kaleidoscopic array of colors, there was dark grey.  Instead of sunbeams shooting across the horizon, there was one momentary "hole" that let the bright rays spill out of the inkiness.  That "hole" was mesmerizing even though fleeting.  It almost appeared to be a doorway to a much more beautiful place than this world could ever offer.  The urge to step through that entryway was tempting the body and soul. 

  Bat (the cat) and I watched the brilliance for the few moments it appeared.  Then...total darkness engulfed us again.  Our chance to "escape" had slipped from reach and now we had to settle in to face the day here.  No problem...he and I started our day with happy ideas bouncing around in our minds...his of exploring the rooftop of the greenhouse and mine of springtime plantings.  Life goes on so we might as well make the best of it.  

Sun-dappled Turtle

   There are so many things that simply marvel me about nature.  Just the everyday happenings that most folks never notice are astounding to my way of thinking.  A butterfly crawling from its chrysalis, an alligator lying in wait for breakfast,  the night-blooming cereus bud opening...are all miraculous wonders.  My only sad part is that the camera is still on the blink.  It is hard to get good photographs when the goofy thing only works occasionally.  I suppose taking it on hikes during rainstorms has greatly diminished its capabilities.  What invigorates me, hampers the functioning of electronics...so it seems.

  Early this morning, I did not dare venture down to the pier.  Lightning bounced around on the Bay making it a bit scary to be a "sitting duck".  I did slip out to the Small Gardens just to breathe.  It is there that I can truly find the feeling of being alive.  While there, I heard a slight crunch of something stepping on the gravel in Pebble Creek (the glorified drain from the house eaves).  This 50ft long running "creek" that ends in Puddle Pond is a never-ending source of interest as critters love the place.  This morning's visitor was a box turtle.  I quietly chose a spot under the Curcumin leaves so I could be a bit sheltered from the drizzly rain as I visited my friend.  These 5ft tall plants with the huge leaves directed the water droplets away from me and down into the gravel.   As soon as I settled into my little spot, the sun burst through the clouds and dappled Pebble Creek and the turtle in a glorious array of sun splotches!  This was turning into one of the nicest mornings ever!

 

  I watched as the turtle grubbled around in the gravel.  Hmm?  It was after something but what?  My answer soon came as the turtle pulled out a fat earthworm!  Imagine that!  There were earthworms under the gravel IN the two inches of water!  The turtle happily munched the worm and started searching again.  How wonderful that the turtle was smart enough to search here.  Being able to watch my friend fill her belly made the morning a bit happier for me.  Rain storms or sun-dappled turtles, the Small Gardens abound in wonders.

Plants Have A Lot To Say

   Currently, the Small Gardens are overgrown, weedy and seemingly happy.  Each morning brings a new surprise in the way of blooms, fruit or vegetables.  It just goes to show that once we stop dumping chemicals, do not overcut and simply let plants do their own thing, they provide.  Plants are resilient...too bad we are not the same.  

  This morning found some lovely phlox in bloom.  These plants came from two different people.  Pop gave me the first start and I have managed to keep them at least surviving for some 35 years.  Yep, the plants keep coming back year after year from the rootstock.  The newer phlox came from my sweet Grand Princess, Mary Ruth when she was just a tot.  Actually, she brought them to "Uncle Michael" (also known as Son on the blog).  She just "had" to bring him some purple flowers!  He loves them merely for that fact. 

  In a way, the phlox are the perfect gift.  Phlox are said to represent "united hearts and souls".  I was very close to Pop and miss him terribly.  He was the one who taught me the love of gardening and plants, in general.  I am also quite certain Son and Mary Ruth will always maintain a special relationship even though they are so very far apart.  The phlox are fitting and so lovely to find as one wanders through the yard.  That is part of the Magic of the Small Gardens!

Trying To Make Sense Of It All

   When you sit on the pier at the crack of dawn, it gives you plenty of uninterrupted time to ponder things.  Once again, the eastern sky did not disappoint.  Even though the cloud coverage was scanty (before the storms set in for the day), the beauty was there...so was the peace.  That serenity is the main reason for my early rising.  Today, however, the thoughts were scattered about in turmoil.  Overnight, the alarms on my phone kept erupting like a volcano.  Two murders had occurred and the killer was on the run.  A young lady and the policeman coming to her rescue were both senselessly gunned down.  My brain cannot wrap itself around such violence...such stupidity....such hatred.  What has become of the world?  Where has commonsense gone?  Where has decency gone?  

  As I sat there exhausted from the constant blaring alarms and the heartache of what had occurred, I felt highly grateful for my upbringing.   We were taught right.  We were raised to respect life in all forms.  We were taught to be kind, generous and loving.  We were taught to be hardworking.  If we wanted something, we worked to get it.  Nowadays, it appears that these values are nowhere to be found.  The whole world has gone to pot and the powers that be are doing nil to correct it.  In fact, they seem to be encouraging it.  Sad...very, very sad.  Think I will sit and stare at the sunrise a bit longer.  Too bad I cannot share the tranquility with  the world...but it is probably in too much of a rage to even see it.

Nothing Else Is Needed

   Life has been tiring for the past few years.  It seems as soon as one thing is settled, something else is thrown in the works and the turmoil starts again.  That is one good thing about the social distancing of the past couple of years.   I can isolate myself from the busybodies and not feel guilty.  I have come to realize that not everyone who professes to be a friend (or family member) really cares.  There are those who are only out for themselves but will use others in any way possible.  So...I isolated.  So...I continue to isolate.  I had an uncle who pretty much became a hermit (in the middle of the city but still a hermit) and kept from communicating much with those who aggravated him.  The man was obviously a genius!  Perhaps I am on my way to being a hermitess...(is that even a word?)

  Early this morning before the sun peeped over the pines, Bat (the cat) and I took our usual hike about the place.  The rains last night left the air clean and the scent of jasmine laid heavy around us.  He and I wandered the garden paths as the world around us was wakening.  It occurred to me that this life is pretty good.  Not much else is needed.  Not much else is wanted.  Tranquility.

Hoodies, Golden Moments and Memories!

   A few mornings ago, I awoke to find the room awash in a golden glow.  That told me that the sunrise was to be spectacular.  Even though, I had little emotional energy left to even think of sunrises, sunsets or anything else on the Bayou, instinct made me stumble out to the pier.  Golden....beautiful golden moments...those are the times that life hands you when you least expect.

  That morning, the waters of the Bay were pushed far from the shore by the north winds of overnight.  The mudflats were busied by the raccoons and shorebirds foraging for breakfast but I was more interested in three little beings paddling in the shallows.  The hoodies were back!  Hooded mergansers hold a special place in my heart.  They are not seen here except during the winter months and, even then, they are here for only few weeks.  I try to enjoy them as much as possible while the opportunity lasts.

  One of my early recollections of the hoodies involved my grandmother.  She loved feeding all the birds even the waterfowl.  Come wintertime, she would carefully put birdseed in the long, tray-like feeder under the south-facing window and then fill a pie tin with bread crumbs, corn and sometimes barley.  Carefully, she would traipse down to the pier my granddad had built.  The goodies would be scattered on the lower part of the lawn for the ducks to enjoy.  If, Pop and Granddad were trying to do a little duck hunting near the mouth of the Bayou, she would bang that pie tin and give a call of "Here, duck, duck, duck!"  Yep, those menfolk gave up the hunt rather quickly since they knew that "Hattie" was not approving of their antics!  Plus, all of the ducks within earshot would flock to their free meal.  Of course, the fish-eating mergansers never came to feast upon the grains but the banging on the tin would send them skittering across the water!

  It is funny how a simple things like the hoodies' presence can bring back a flood of memories.  Golden moments abound!  Life is good. 

  

Firecrackers, bottle rockets and noise! Oh, my!

   This being New Year's Eve, the peace of the Bayou is being thrown in a turmoil by the constant barrage of fireworks being exploded.  I cannot help but think of the poor critters that must be fearing for their lives as bottle rockets and firecrackers blast near them.  It has to be terrifying, to say the least.  I have nothing against people celebrating as long as they do it carefully and do not intentionally try to cause harm with their fireworks.  In fact, I really do enjoy the showy "showers" that light up the sky.  Those are beautiful!  (Still, just a hint here, tomorrow...go pick up your mess!)  Personally, I shall celebrate with the quietness of the sunrise.

  That said, folk, have an enjoyable and safe New Year's Eve and an even better entire year coming.  May each of you find peace, love and happiness knocking at your door this year.  Happy New Year!

Rain Again? It Is All Good.

   For a while now, our weather has been a bit unusual.  Most years, late summer sees us in a drought which is no fun whatsoever for the garden.   This year, however, the total rainfall has been unreal.  The area usually sees about 65 inches during an average year but we surpassed that at the half year mark....and are still counting.  While this creates problems for folks in low-lying areas, we are safe from rainfall flooding.  It simply runs off into the Bayou or Bay.  That is the advantage of living on a hill.  Oh, it is raining as I write this...imagine that.  It seems as if each day starts with dark, threatening clouds overhead.  Is it strange that I love this weather?  All too soon, it may turn around to where we are all wishing for rain. 

  This morning, the sun struggled to peep through the heavy clouds.  As it did, a soft golden glow spread out over the waters near the pier.  Sitting back, I breathed in the fresh morning air and gave thanks that I am able to live where I do....rains and all.  I am sort of isolated from the woes of the world.  Morning has broken.  Rejoice and be happy in it.  Appreciate what you are handed.

Whisper Soft

   As I was out wandering about the place earlier, I noticed something falling from the sky.  I watched as a feather slowly, slowly descend from somewhere in the treetops.  Then, it softly landed at my feet.  It is a gorgeous feather.  One side of the shaft is brilliant white and the other is a soft grey and it is as downy soft as a whisper.   I am not certain what type bird lost this feather so I figure it is just an "angel feather".  It is one of those "signs" that tells you things are all going to be alright.   We all need that right now...at least, I do.

  There are many different beliefs of what a feather symbolizes but most have good connotations.  A good many do refer to angels or those of our past.  Some say that finding a feather means that angels are near and are protecting the finder.  Others say that a loved one from your past is paying a visit.   White feathers supposedly symbolize purity, peace and understanding while grey represents enlightenment, harmony and wisdom.  The two together is a perfect sign.  Whether you believe in signs or not, is none of my business but you do have to admit with the state of the world today, it is nice to find something that talks of peace, harmony and wisdom.  

Quietness

   After a pretty much sleepless night due to the foster kitten, my day started at a little before 4am.  The kitten wanted breakfast and I wanted a cup of coffee.  First things first, though.  The kitten was fed and then, coffee in hand, I headed to the pier.  I had to escape even if for a few moments.  The water brings tranquility.  Once on the pier, it was just as it should be...quiet and still.  Only a few birds were chirping as they awoke and a pair of coons waddled in the marsh making sloshing sounds.  All else was quiet.  

  It is funny how being on the pier puts all things in perspective.  There are no interruptions...no distractions...just the cool breeze and a few clouds.  Later, these would develop into a thunderstorm but, for now, they were just interesting decorations in the sky.   I felt refreshed.  Bayou Therapy...always works.  Time to face the day.

  

No Monsters!

   The other morning, fog totally blocked out any sight beyond the pier.  It was as if the world beyond the Bayou suddenly ceased to exist.  Fog, in general, has always had a "creep" appeal about it.  Have you ever noticed that in movies, fog predicts a scary moment.  Let a mist start swirling and you just know some villain or monster is about to appear! 

   Personally, I like the fog.  It brings a lot of things into perspective.  Fog allows you to see what is close around you...really see it like never before.  Your full attention is focused on only what is near so your awareness becomes crystal clear.  Each step taken is studied.  Each sound resonates.  Each sense is bombarded with stimulation.  Blocking out the world beyond makes the near become life. (By the way, no monsters nor villains appeared!  Just fog...peaceful, silent fog.)

  

Meanderings of the Brain

   When wandering through the Small Gardens at daybreak, the beauty of this old world never ceases to enthrall me.  While most would see the flowers or plants, I see things in a different mode.  I see the transparency of the butterfly wings, the soft bends of the petals or winding path that a snail has left behind on its nightly journey.  These things purely astound.

  This morning, the zinnia bed was the object of my interest.  The "old fashioned" zinnias are the best.  They bloom profusely with an assortment of sizes and shapes.  These are not the forced hybrid types of blooms where the natural beauty has been sucked out of existence but rather are the blooms that were originally meant to be.  These are the ones that appeal to me and are the only type flowers that can be found in the Small Gardens.  It is the same with the vegetable plot.  There are no fancy plants that produce things far bigger (yet tasteless) than the old style vegetables that yield deliciousness on demand.  The zinnias were out in dominance of the gardens this morning and they drew not only my attention but that of several butterflies and a myriad of bees.

  I guess as I grow old, I can see the beauty in things that are simple and carefree.  I am simply tired of the demands that we all fit someone else's idea of what is perfect.  Life is too short for that.  Enjoy what is meant to be and not what others deem should be.  Those folks are not the important ones.  Happiness and tranquility lies only in oneself.  Nowhere else.