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!

Not Quite a Spider!

  I figured while there was a break from cold in the weather it would be a grand time to transplant the Bell Pepper plants and a lone volunteer tomato plant.  I have been dutifully covering and wrapping these things since the first cool spell hit weeks ago.  The plants all managed to survive even though several times the night's temperatures dipped into the 20s.  Earlier in the fall, my vision was to have fresh peppers and tomatoes throughout the winter.  Michael built me a wonderful greenhouse that should provide enough warmth and light to allow the plants to survive nicely.  The addition of a couple of heat lamps keeps the nighttime temperatures from dropping below freezing.

  While I was outside digging in the planter boxes, a slight movement to my left caught my eye.  I saw what I assumed was a spider clinging to the side of one of the boxes.  This "spider" must be out enjoying the warm day just like me!  Ahhh, a kindred spirit!  Neither of us could stand being cooped up inside any longer.  That said, I decided to make friends with my visitor.  First move was to don the spectacles as without them, I might mistake the dog for the spider.  (Ok, the eyes are not quite THAT bad but you get the idea.)  Then I leaned over to where I first spied this critter.  Imagine my surprise when it was not a spider at all.  Why!  It was not even a critter at all!  Nope, there flopping in the wind was some sort of wispy seed-like thing with bunches (instead of eight) of thin "legs".

  Ok, so I humbly admitted that my spider was not a spider and decided that the seed was just as interesting and less likely to bite.  I pondered just what plant had sent its seed flying about the hillside on such feathery light wings.  There were several options all ranging from dandelions, jasmine, butterfly weed and willow.  Any one of these could be responsible.  I figured that the plant/tree would have to be somewhat nearby for the seed to be blown into such a small corner.  Meandering about a bit, I found my answer.  The Confederate Jasmine had several spent seed pods flapping in the Bay breeze.  Alrighty then!  I suppose that come springtime, I had better be on the lookout for tiny jasmine seedlings.  (I also had better start wearing my glasses more as some day, I might just think I have found a seed and grab ahold to an actual spider!  Not that I am squeamish at all about them but I definitely do not need another spider bite!  They do hurt!)

Teeny, Tiny Tree

  I have this weird sense of curiosity when it comes to my surroundings.  I want to see the "unseeable". I want to find out how things of nature "work".  I blame my granddad for this as he was always stressing the idea that I should observe everything around me.  "You never know just what might be under a rock or hiding on a leaf.  Make sure you actually see what you are looking at and make sure you look at what you see." Good advice since a lot of folks can go through an entire day without ever seeing what is under their own feet!  

  Michael and I were busy hauling plants into the greenhouse in preparation of the wintry weather.  One of the large pots held several small shoots of an Aloe plant that I was rooting.  Aloe is one of the plants that I deem as a necessary part of the herb garden so I made sure to protect each one.  This one, however, had a tiny addition to the pot.  Evidently a seed from a pine cone had fallen in beside the Aloe shoots.  In one corner a sprig of green was being bowed over by a winged seed.   The wee, little pine tree could not even support the very thing giving it life.  Aww, poor little tree!

  Now, I should have pulled the miniature tree from the pot.  I do not need more pine trees in the yard and it surely should not stay in the pot!  Looking at that tree fighting for a chance at life made me feel guilty about ripping it out by the roots.  How sad.  If we went around pulling out and discarding every  tiny sprout, soon there will be no trees.  Yep, a two inch tall wisp of a tree tugged at heartstrings.  The tree will be given a chance.  Tomorrow, the tiny tree will be transplanted into its very own pot and eventually will find a home in the woods near the creek.  I guess one more pine tree cannot hurt.  After all, we lost three to lightning strikes earlier this year.  Perhaps this one will be a fine replacement of one of those.  Just think.  If Granddad had not stressed the fact of being observant, I may not have ever noticed the little tree.  With that observation, a tree shall live.  Thanks, Granddad! At least some of the lessons you tried to teach me are still being used!