I have always been one who is fascinated by the night. Darkness hides so many things. I am much more cautious these days as I am getting older but during my younger years, a good hike about the place in the middle of the night was invigorating. In fact, the kids and I would often venture out after midnight to traipse about the place. A foggy night was even more enticing. We would hike down the lane then make a sharp right and head down through the woods to the creek bed. From there, our meandering would bring us back up behind the chicken house and around by the canebrake. The hikes were never long but were enjoyable. Things look so much different, sound different and even smell different than they do during the daytime hours. Hikes with the kids were nigh on thirty years ago but they still talk about our times. I miss those times. My hikes now are generally limited to early morning treks around the hillside and the marsh edge and are never at night. I miss the suspense of what is around the next corner and the intrigue of how much more alert the senses become at night when you cannot fully depend on the eyesight.
At daybreak, I headed out into the garden and was immediately engulfed in the sweetest aroma. The Four O'clock plants were in full bloom! These bloom late in the evening and then close during the early morning. While the plants come with a variety of colored blooms, mine have all mixed together over the years to become hot pink. This is the hazard of saving seeds year after year. The plants cross pollinate and soon you wind up with only one color. It is fine by me as long as they still smell so delightful!
Finding the blooms this morning has made me realize just how much I am missing by not doing the nightly hikes. If ever my kids come back to the Little Bayou House, perhaps I can convince them to take just one midnight hike...just for old time's sake...just for old Mom's sake. Maybe? Perhaps I should just open the windows tonight and be happy with that.
As a kid growing up on the farm, my life, of course, was filled with plants. I was taught how to plant, tend and harvest. The lessons started with the seeds and how to tell if they were viable and ended with how to preserve the bounty of our harvest. Pop made sure that his knowledge of caring for plants (and the farm animals) was passed along so "if there is ever a need", I would be able to provide for myself and family. The knowledge has come in handy as our pantry shelves stay filled with the most delectable treats from our garden plot. One of the all important instructions was to "never let anything go to waste". This not only applied to what we could eat or share but even the scraps. On the farm, most kitchen scraps were fed to the farm animals. The chickens, hogs and cows loved any vegetable scraps! What was deemed too far gone to feed the critters was placed in the composting pile. That, as we all know, is grand stuff for the gardens.
The compost pile here is in steady use since I am not allowed by the city to have multiple critters running around the place. So, every table scrap is dumped to be broken down into soil additives. Of course, the wild critters around the Bayou have a fine time finding free foodstuffs each night but a good bit still rots and the nutrients can be used to grow more plants. Of course, a lot of rubbish from the gardens makes its way to the pile as well and, occasionally, seeds sprout. I allow a good many flowering plants to live where they sprout so the compost pile is a makeshift flower garden of sorts.
After emptying some coffee grounds into the compost, I noticed that the oxalis or (pink wood sorrel) were blooming in one corner. They flourish here and are always the earliest to bloom. Today, however, one bloom was the largest that I have ever seen! The normal size of each bloom is about 1/2 inch in diameter but this one was easily 2 times that (maybe larger) and, instead of the normal 5 petals, this had many more. The whole bloom was like a big ruffle! Thinking this was just a fluke and nothing to be excited about, I checked the other plants and sure enough there were others with the large blooms and equally oversized leaves.
Maybe the compost pile is a really good place for the wood sorrel to grow. If that is the case, I am purely happy to let it thrive there. These plants hold a special place with me since they have always been favorites of several of the important ladies in my life. Grandmother, Mom, Aunt Helen and my grandmother-in-law, Momie, all adored the little pink blooms. Each made the same remark at different times of how they knew spring was here if the wood sorrel bloomed. I wish they could see these blooms!
