Just A Lily Brightening the Way.

   I have been lax on taking care of the plants this whole summer.  It seems as if one thing or another has gotten in the way and anything not on that "priority" list fell to the wayside.  I feel bad about it but, at the same time, feel there was no need in pushing myself beyond feasible limits.  I am getting old.  Today, however, as I meandered back behind the old greenhouse to the grape arbor, I was greeted in the most pleasant way.  The lycoris lilies were in full bloom...at least as much of "full" bloom as was possible in view of the recent chomping by the Eastern Lubber Grasshoppers.  Those things are relentless!  The lilies proved stronger and were simply gorgeous.  The golden color is a perfect touch for the hint of fall that we are enjoying. 

  These particular lilies were from a few bulbs that I received some 30 years ago from a dear friend.  Ms. Twin (yes, there were two and they were both "Ms. Twin") had dug up some of her bulbs just to share with me.  This sweet elderly lady knew I loved flowers of any kind and knew that she had the perfect gift...one from the heart.  I was elated and immediately planted the bulbs.  They have bloomed every year since and always remind me of the dear friend.  Sadly, she passed only two years after gifting the bulbs to me.  

  The lilies are in the same family as the Red Nerine lilies that are so abundant across the Deep South.  They have a dozen or so names including Lycoris Lily, Nerine Lily, Spider Lily, Jersey Lily, Guernsey Lily and even Naked Lady Lily (due to the lack of leaves...not clothes.)   The spotting of the lilies gave me a much needed lift this morning and I was able to continue the day with a bit more ambition that before.  I figure if the lilies could fight against the drought and grasshoppers then I should be able to fight against the tiredness that wracks the body.  Never doubt that somewhere hidden among the trials is an answer that can make everything right again.

It's Pirate Treasure!

   A few years back, I noticed a bright, glowing spot on the water right at the edge of the marsh.  This spot was on the opposite shore if I looked eastward.  It was late fall and right at sunset when the intense light appeared.  I was so adamant that one of the recent hurricanes had washed something ashore there that Mark paddled the small skiff to the spot to check.  He found nothing amiss.  In fact, by the time he got there, the "spot" had fully disappeared.  The sun had slid down behind the pines and fully blocked the beams.  We pondered this for quite some time but never figured out why the sun pinpointed that spot with its rays.  What was reflecting the light?  Our murky, muddy waters are not sparkling enough to cause this phenomenon.   Then, as seasons do, things shifted and the sun was not at the "perfect" angle to create the brilliant splash on the shore.

  Yesterday evening as we sat on the pier, the glow appeared again.  The sunset has now shifted enough to reflect on whatever is causing the glow.  There, at the edge of the marsh seated beneath a background of groundsel bushes and goldenrod, the shimmer was back, if only for a few fleeting moments.  I was tempted to ask Mark to paddle the skiff to the spot once again!  (Poor fellow!)  As we mulled over the possibilities, he mumbled something about pirate treasure and that was all it took to get the wheels going in my head!  Perhaps that is it!  Maybe some pirate ship made its way into the Bay and deposited treasure in that exact spot!  After many years and a goodly number of hurricanes, the gold doubloons are spilling out over the muddy bank catching the sun's rays!  Interesting thought, but I do believe someone would have already laid claim to the treasure if it was out in the open with a huge spotlight shining on it.  Although...pirate treasure would be something that my brain could wrap itself around and come up with a dozen or so tall tales to explain the shimmer across the Bay!

  Will we ever be able to explain what is causing our "bright spot" or shall we leave it up to speculation and let the "haunted tales" become another "Bayou Legend"?  I sort of like the latter.  Leave some things unexplained.   

Hunting for Bright Spots

   It has been a sort of mopey week for me.  Mark has been sick with a particularly rough cold, the week started with nasty weather and the grandkids were not able to be here for Christmas yet again.  Today, the decorations came down and are stowed away for another year.  This is so unlike me as I usually love the holidays and all the trappings that go along with them.  But....it is done.  Things around the Little Bayou House look "back to normal" and I can now go about my days without fretting over lights going out on the tree or pine cones bouncing off the stairway garland.  

  Slipping out the back door, I eased my way around to the Frog Pond.  The citrus trees are almost bare of their fruit now and the leaves have dropped from the peach and plum trees.  Well, this looks a mite drab! I was thinking I should just head back indoors but, then, I spied the small white blooms of the Paperwhite Narcissus.  Each and every time I see the plants in bloom, I think of Mom. She loved the blooms and would often pick a nice bouquet for the table.  While I think they are pretty, I prefer to leave them outdoors.  Mom loved the scent.  I find it....umm....well, not to my liking.   

  Not only did Mom like the blooms for their scent, she claimed that they were a sign that winter would not last forever.  I suppose?  But, to be honest, I really would like some "winter".  When it is Christmas week and the ACs are running full blast, it makes me wonder if the Paperwhites are a wee bit confused.  

  Finding the Paperwhites in bloom did lift my spirits even if only for a few moments.  They brought a flood of happy memories of my childhood and being with Mom.  Goodness, I miss those days.  Life was so much easier.  

About As Perfect As It Gets

   The past few months have taken their toll on the Small Gardens.  What with neglect, hurricanes and freezes, things have gone from bad to worse.  There is not much hope for flower gardens until springtime so the best I can do is mulch the beds to keep them weed-free and add some much needed nutrients to the soil.  This mulching is from the ground hurricane debris which can still be found in huge mountains in the lower yard.  This idea came highly recommended and is working well.

  This morning, after another round of torrential rains, tornado warnings and high winds, I surveyed the meager offerings of the Small Gardens.  While the veggie plot appeared well-kempt, the flower gardens appeared as bleak, barren spots, except for one spot!  A bright spot of pink appeared just above the six inch deep mulch padding.  A tiny zinnia bloom greeted me after the rough night.  Is it a perfect bloom?  Not as far as some folk's standards but it appears perfect to me.  In fact, the brave little flower seems mighty exquisite.  It is hope at its best.

  The tiny plant was a volunteer from the spent blooms I had discarded from the earlier gardens.  It had wormed its way to the top of the mulch and put forth a tiny (1 inch) blossom.  I knelt next to the wee plant and thanked it for being the "pick-me-up" that I so needed.  

  It has been a rough six months...no year...for all of us but if we only look, there is beauty to be found in every day.  Folks, don't despair.  There are brighter times on the horizon if we only we make the effort to create it.  Think positive.

Finding the Strength

  Sometimes when things are a bit rough and you find yourself fretting over what is not in your control, it is easy to lose sight of how many blessings are at hand.  Right now, I am dealing with a few things that seemingly have no satisfactory ending so it feels only that there are worse times ahead.  These things are not able to be "fixed" and weigh heavy on my mind.  For several months, I thought I was handling the situations well but, today, that idea all came tumbling down around me and made the day look dismal.  It felt that I was alone in my struggles.  I needed an "escape" so I headed out the back door to just breathe.  It seems that a bit of solitude can really put things back into perspective so I hiked my new path.  It did not take long for the mood to lift so I headed back to the Little Bayou House.  I was still perplexed about how to handle things and still saddened by the inevitable outcome of the situations but, at least, I felt that I could face what was to come.

  My stroll back to the house took me past a few flower gardens and into the east arbor.  It was at the base of this arbor that I was taken aback by the sight of a single bloom.  A daylily had burst forth with all its beauty.  How had I not noticed this before?  Three times, I had passed through that gate earlier in the day and not once had I seen the flower.  I knelt down and cupped the bloom in my hands and, strange as it seems, felt strength being poured into my soul.  I smiled.  With a renewed spirit and a happy heart, I could face the world again.  Throw me your best shot, Frustrations!  I've got this.

  You see, that daylily was a gift from my precious daughter-in-law.  No, she did not mean it to be the end-all cure for the world's woes and, as matter of fact, it was not even a true gift just a sweet gesture.  She just happened to have extra daylily rhizomes and called to see if I wanted some.  Long story short..I was truly thankful for her thinking of me.  The daylilies were a bright spot that I could turn to in my down times.  Today's bloom was perceived as a sign that I did, indeed, have the power to prevail!  Joanna will probably never know how her small act of kindness has been a light during so many dark times but, then, she is pretty amazing and makes the whole world a brighter spot by just being herself.

Little Flame of Red!

  The old dog is still not doing the best so my limitations on hiking are still in effect.  We slowly meander about a hundred feet down the hill, he sits, I try to find something interesting to pass the time as he gazes at whatever is in front of him and then we return to the Little Bayou House.  This routine is ok as it is all he can muster but it does make for a lack of photographs.  Patience is a virtue.

  This afternoon while he spent ten minutes staring at Ms. Nycto (the cat), I stared at a single red leaf.  The tiny leaf was being back lit by the sun that was quickly sliding down to the western horizon.  In all of its one inch glory, the leaf fought back at the coming darkness.  It literally glowed!  It was a brilliant beacon in amongst the dull browns of the fallen oak leaves...a little flame of red!

  Thinking this little leaf was one that had recently fallen from a nearby tree, I tried to pluck it from the ground.  Nope, it wasn't happening.  This little leaf was the entirety of a plant.  With its roots firmly affixed, there was no pulling this plant!  A baby smilax vine had sprouted and was doing its best to survive the winter (or lack thereof.  Lucky plant).  

  Smilax vines are some of the most difficult vines to remove from the ground.  Their vines are covered with thorns which makes grasping difficult but it is the root system that causes it to be a nigh on impossible task to pull them from the ground.  Even this tiny two inch tall vine with its single leaf has a root tuber about an inch in diameter.  It seems that the root ball grows much quicker than the upper portion of the vine.  Once established, however, the vines can quickly cover anything on which they can grasp!  Tendrils reach out and wrap around twigs of other plants. The sheer tenacity of smilax is amazing!

  I really should have yanked the smilax from the ground and thrown it into the burn bin but something told me to leave it be.  Perhaps it being my bright spot of the day had something to do with that decision...one I may regret come this summer.  For now, however, the tiny red leaf can glow in comfort as I have no desire to remove it.  It whiled away a good ten minutes for me.