My Backyard "Tower"

   Being tightly bound to the Small Gardens has made me start looking for points of interest that I might ordinarily overlook.  We all do that.  We become so hung up in what we "have" to do that we have a tendency to forget what we "need" to do for ourselves...those things that inspire, induce tranquility or simply cause us to "stop and smell the roses".  Having the title of "Queen of the Small Gardens" imposed upon me during my time of healing has brought my "workload" to a crawl.  Sorry, being lazy both hurts and helps.  Physically, I ache from suddenly becoming more or less inactive.  Mentally, the brain is whirling with fantastical tales.  This seems to be something inherited from my maternal grandmother.  It was passed to my Aunt Helen and then instilled in my brain through contact with the two of them.  They had the ability to create magical scenes for any child who wished to listen and believe.  I did both.

  That said, yesterday, as I was strolling through my garden domain (thing queen here!), I spied the cupola that sits atop of a house which is probably a quarter of a mile from my house.  The Bayou is between the two houses. In my previous hikes along the marshline, the cupola definitely sat on top of that house.  The whole house was visible and, while I thought the thing was neat, it never inspired any creative ideas.  It was just a cupola that would need a difficult paint job as the need arose.  Since my view was from a different angle and the cupola was mostly hidden behind the grape arbor and tree line, it suddenly became a "garden tower" and thoughts soon drifted to tales that the aforementioned ladies had shared.  Ahh...faerie tales...the Land of Enchantment...a little girl's happy time...all came tumbling out of the dusty corners of the brain.  

  Who knew that a neighbor's cupola could stir the creativeness to a point that I wish to write, paint and recreate some of those long-lost tales?  Perhaps, this void in my usual busy day can be filled building ideas instead of greenhouses.  Maybe, the seeds that I should be planting are ideas and not the start of plants.  Possibly, I needed a time to slow down and find a different, more pleasing role for myself.  It is a thought anyway and one that I shall seriously consider.  Healing can take many different routes, it seems.  So...as Queen, I shall start or, at least, make an attempt.

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.

Inspired by a Firecracker

   Being "out of commission" due to a torn muscle has really brought gardening to a halt.  The Small Gardens have taken on a "rain forest" look as they are truly overgrown.  The plants have had to fend for themselves so they have grown with wild abandon.  Fine by me but I am not accustomed to having things intermingled to the point of confusion.  

  This morning between the rains, I strolled through the Small Gardens on my way to the fig trees.  (I am allowed to pick the lower figs as long as I do no stretching.)  At one turn on the path, there was a hodgepodge of plants with one bright sprig of blooms.  A single "Firecracker Lily" was blooming in the midst of a bunch of greenery.  In this one conglomeration, there was the bright red lily, a hibiscus (no blooms yet), some ivy, a trumpet vine and a fern.  How that poor lily squeezed its way through that mess is beyond me.  Still, the lily did.  It overcame the trouble set around it and flourished.  Perhaps, that is a hint for me to keep fighting all problems and flourish on my own.  The Small Gardens are full of inspiration.

"Seeing the light?"

   Being back on doctor's orders to "be lazy" (to let a torn muscle heal), I feel rather useless.  I tinker around trying to prove to myself that I am still active. There is not a lot I can do.  So...at sunup, I pretend to "work" in the garden which usually amounts to picking a few tomatoes.  I "tend" to the flower gardens which means I spend more time talking with the plants than actually doing anything.  I mosey around acting like the farm girl.  Finally after all that "work" is done, I head inside to home can the fruits and veggies that Son helps me pick.  THAT...I can do!  Canning is not strenuous so, at least, I have that!

  This morning's early morning escapades took me to Puddle Pond in the Small Gardens.  I had intentions of picking the last few blueberries but the birds had beaten me to them.  Well, since there was not much else to be done here, I decided it was in my best interest to "sit a spell" on the tiny footpath bridge that spans Pebble Creek.  (For those who do not know, both Puddle Pond and Pebble Creek are parts of a glorified drainage ditch that runs down the edge of the Little Bayou House and catches the rain runoff.  This was my way of "beautifying" an otherwise ugly, washed out place.)  As I sat listening to the the water sliding over the pebbles, the sun started shooting beams through the tree limbs.  One beam settled nicely on a water hyacinth bloom and totally enthralled me. 

  While thoughts of being useless rattled around in the brain, the sight before me set things straight.  If a lowly invasive plant bloom could bring joy, then surely I could find some purpose in my day.  That thought set the wheels twirling!  What would be my goal for today...other than letting the body heal?  I felt immensely better.  I WOULD find something and go from there!  Thank you, Mr. Sun, for letting me see a clear path!

Tiny Orb of Sap

   When out meandering about the place, I am always on the lookout for anything that has changed since the last hike.  With life as it is, entertainment has to be found in oddities instead of people.  I am good with that as I have long avoided much social contact.  I do not see the need for all the drama that comes with interaction with society.  I prefer to live my life with limited access to the "outside" world.  Occasionally, however, the need for new ideas makes me long for some sort of entertainment.   That is when I search the place for any oddity that can fill the imagination.

  Yesterday after finishing my chores, I trudged through the mud near the marsh edge.  Surely. my brain would be jostled enough by something besides mud!  Just as I was thinking mud was to be the high point of the hike, the sunrays hit upon a tiny speck on the pathway.  A spark of brilliant blue was to be seen on a gnarled root.  Hmmm...that was a bit interesting so, regardless of the knees of my jeans getting wet and muddy, I dropped down to inspect the tiny blue orb.

  Resin!  Or as we call it, pine gum.  Hurricane Zeta had obviously scraped a pine root bare and marred it enough to cause the pine sap to rise in a tiny ball.  This gum was now hardened on the outside creating the perfectly clear (although yellow as it was only blue by reflecting the sky) orb.  The sunrays were hitting it in the right position to allow me to see the reflection of the bright blue sky and surrounding oak tree tops in the orb's surface.  Ok, so that was fascinating!  

  The finding of the pine gum brought the brain around into a circle of things from how to remove the sticky stuff from clothing to needing to make some salve.  The salve is more important than fretting over a smear on the jeans so now the brain is in high gear of remembering the concoction...pine gum, oil, beeswax...hmmm...time to do some pondering and some searching for pine gum. I will need a good bit more than that tiny orb! Setting and keeping goals are good entertainment...at least for me.

Shadows on my mind...

   Since winter presents us with a variety of weather here, it is always a good idea to "make hay while the sun shines",  In other words, get busy.  The words chimed through the head in Pop's voice this morning when I first stepped out the door.  He used the phrase more than once when I was a kid back on the farm and it was not always about cutting hay (even though we did our share of that).  The phrase was applicable for anything from farm work to fishing.  Today, I think Pop was probably telling me to get in that garden.  I followed the directive and enjoyed a good day's work in the warm sunshine.

  That same sunshine cast a lot of shadows around the hillside.  On my early morning hike, I was enthralled by how vivid the shadows of palmetto fronds were.  With the usual overcast skies blocking such a sight, it was grand to see.   This all got me to thinking about how we take things for granted.  It is not hard to appreciate the huge, warming sun but how many of us take the time and effort to appreciate shadows?  I do.  Here lately, I am even more thankful for each and every thing that I come across.  Each is a gift and is there for my enjoyment.  

  Actually, shadows have been a huge inspiration to me in my artwork.  It seems that I am entering a phase where shadowy art appeals to me far more than my usual bright and happy pieces.  Perhaps, I am entering an entirely different phase of life and not just art.  Shadowy art, dark pathways, dusty, dark rooms all have an appeal to me.  It is as if something there is hidden.  Something lures me to investigate.  I NEED to find what is concealed in the shadows.  I may never know.  I may never know but it is fun to let the imagination run amok.    

Pinch Pleats, Ladies' Hats and Mushrooms

  While wondering about the hillside on my thrice daily hikes, many things catch my eye and deem further investigation.  Always on the lookout for unusual patterns in things, the artist in me will drop to my knees to photograph even the smallest of finds.  Recently, a mushroom sort of "jumped' out at me and demanded attention.  Well, maybe jumped is too strong of a word here but the mushroom was quite different than any I have photographed before.  This one seemed to be upside down.  It was firmly attached to a dead branch but its gills were on the upper side instead of below the cap.  This gave the thing a quite ruffly look almost like a lady's hat from years past.  In fact, it looked a lot like one that my grandmother used to wear.  Well, the top of the hat did not look like it but rather the lining was pleated and just about the same color as the mushroom.  Since I was a mere tot when I first noticed the hat, I saw the underside of the brim of the hat more than the top. 

  As I sat looking at that tiny mushroom and  thinking about Grandmother's pleated hat lining, I had to giggle a bit about the similarity.  That hat made quite the impression on my young brain.  I thought Grandmother was the most stylish lady in town with her hats, purse and pumps.  In reality, Grandmother's hats were all handmade.  Her father (my great-grandfather) was the proprietor of the only hat shop in Biloxi for a number of years.  "Carter, the Hatter" was renown in the area for his fine hats...both men's and ladies'.  Grandmother literally grew up making hats so whenever she wanted a new headpiece, she simply sat down and created it.  The pleated one so firmly implanted in my memories just happened to be one of her favorites.  Each tiny pinch-pleat was precisely measured and hand sewn for the lining and the hatband held a silk nosegay of small roses.  I wonder if she got her inspiration from a similar mushroom?

  The mushroom is one of many that belong to a group called split gill mushrooms.  Not that the identity means anything to me as I cannot get past that hat thing.  Still, it was a fine way to spend a few minutes.   Memories are great like that....just saying.

The Magical Woods!

  If you ever wander around in the woods and really...really...observe things, it is not hard to sink into a different sort of mindset.  There is a peace there that cannot be found many other places.  The Bayou offers such things.  Here, there is the serenity of the water but, also, that magical peace that surrounds you deep in the creek bed.  The sounds, smells and sights are different.  It would not be difficult to let the imagination run wild once you are in the swamp.  Perhaps, some writer of the daydreaming ilk lost his way in the swamps and fanciful fairy tales were the result.  There are just so many fantastical things beneath the canopy of tree branches. 

  This morning, I hiked about the hillside.  A light sprinkling of rain fell upon me as I quietly slipped through the palmettos. The old dog, PJ, eagerly sniffed everything.  This was new territory for him and he was enjoying every moment.  After we made our way far down below the canebrake and even further down to where the hill slides into the creek, I found a (semi)dry space to sit.  PJ was too antsy.  He wanted to continue his sniff-fest but soon agreed to be my companion under the oak tree.  While a squirrel chattered fussily at us, birds were more curious than frightened.  Soon a dozen or more birds could be seen flitting about the nearby branches.  Blue tailed skinks darted among the leaves and a lone beetle rustled about in a rotted stump.  The summer of rains had produced a prolific crop of assorted mushrooms on trees, stumps and among the mosses.  It was a delightful experience, to say the least.

  Then our adventure came to an abrupt end!  Thunder sounded...loud and clear!  We had better scoot ourselves out of the woods and back up that hillside!  Neither the dog nor I are spring chickens and that steep hill just grew steeper!  We just made it to the front door when the clouds burst.  Whew!  That was close but so worth the hustle! The little adventure into the Magical Woods was inspiring!

One tough bird!

There is a small bird in my yard that could serve as an inspiration to all of us. It is not a rare bird in that there are many others of the same species flocking around here. It is not a flashy, showy bird with beautiful bright feathers. No, this is just an everyday, ordinary mockingbird. Still, it should be an inspiration..at least it is to me. You see, last year when this bird was just a nestling, it was attacked by crows and was literally torn to pieces. The parent birds tried their best to fight off the much larger crows but they lost all but this baby to the ruthless attack. And this baby was severely injured. Along with the many other injuries, it had lost a leg to the marauding crows. Normally in the wild, birds will just abandon injured babies and re-nest. Not these birds! The parent birds patiently tended to this tiny, helpless baby and nursed it back to reasonably good health. Today, our one-legged mockingbird sits on the old pine stump and sings its heart out. It sings day and night. It sings as if to declare.."I love life and I am going to live it with a happy heart!" I love this bird! We, as humans, whine way too much about the most minor things that we feel are not to our liking. We complain about our aches and pains as if ours are worse than any pains endured by others. We complain about the weather, our spouses and our lot in life. We just complain. Why can't we be more like this bird? Why can't we make the best of what is given us and be happy? Why can't we sing with a joyous heart? I love this bird!

Off on another note.. sometimes mistakes can be happy things themselves. I have had recipes that are a total mess when mixing but the cake comes out of the oven delicious. Then there are art projects that because of one slip or another have to be rethought and remade but turn out to be a favorite. Well, in photography, sometimes this also happens. The lights across the calm waters of the Bay provide an incredible view at times. This was so the other night and I had the brilliant idea to snap a few pictures to share with you. Ha! Ezzy, the dog, had a different idea! She thought it would be much more fun to play tag! It seems as if her running and colliding with my leg coincided with each snap of the camera. Focus..snap..bump..wiggle!

This makes for some really unusual pictures! These look more like we are being under attack from some space aliens rather than a playful pup. Still, the colors and the composition are pleasing for some strange reason. Perhaps it is just really hard to be angry at a happy dog that thinks you are the best thing in the world. Or perhaps, my artistic eye sees things just a tad differently! Regardless, these pictures make me smile and so does Ezzy!