things that bloom

exotic flowers....all blooing at the same time....must be spring somewhere.




I have always been facinated by sunrise/moonset.
These pictures were taken less than a minute apart
one facing east and one west. -2degrees this am.

Ashes to ash, rust to rust

Out behined the compost/ash dump sits George King's Model T. or what is left of it. We think sometimes of moving it, but stories still circulate that it was his treasure, so we leave it, don't want to disturb the ghosts.

The upper pond's overflow has been running all winter and the January thaw is coming to an end as we expect snow and cold to return.

We had one of those dark and stormy night experiences last night. High winds and lots of rain. Most of the snow is gone. I do not know how the chickadees hold on to their branches in 50 mile in a fifty mile an hour wind, but they were there this morning asking for breakfast. Their cheery calls and the sound of the pond water rushing out of the overflow were the only two sounds at 5:00.

The sun comes over the forest and lights the tree tops of the pines on the hill. At 4:30 the sky was so clear I could see Pluto, Mars, Saturn, Sirius and Procyon. I like to speak their names to them, as I am relearning them. So many people cannot see the stars anymore. They look to the web to see them. It is my responsibililty to say their names out loud to them because I can.

winter finches and more snow

We put up a new thistle sock....I counted more than 40 finches. And we have a heavy wet persistant snow. Mike came and plowed us out. We have over a foot so far.

animals are such agreeable friends--they ask no questions they pass no critcisms--George Elliot

Cricket, Rainbow and Penny our three resident rescued greyhounds. Cricket was rescued from Oklahoma working as a coyote hunter. Rainbow raced in Arizona, Penny raced for five years. The only time they run now is for the pure joy of it, on the beach and up the hill.

snow this am...no wind and each branch is outlined. It is so quiet here I can hear the snow landing on the trees.

If I stand on the top of the mountain, I can see the land where I live. An eagle eye view across Frenchman's Bay.....and the mountains beyond

winter birds

Each morning one of us puts out corn and fills the feeders. It's part of the unwritten reciprocal agreement between the flying/furry winter residents and ourselves. I do not always see them, but their tracks and scat converge under the feeders Chickadees, Junco, Woodpeckers, Gold Finches, Doves, Blue Jays, Nuthatches, 25 Mallards, red and grey squirrels, fox and an unidentified visitor or two. On these cold quiet winter mornings the only sounds are the feathered flit and squeek of wings. I think of Haiti, and the mourning crys for help. I give what I can.

Like all of us here on the hill, we are temporary visitors, some are just more temporary than others.

I love old Dinerware. There is something in the thousands of scratches on the surface, a sturdiness in the weight of the pieces, the way the coffee cups hold the heat and a bowl of oatmeal does not get cold before the last bite. They do not break, they only bounce. I am drawn to the different dishes, what were they used for? There are logos on some, long forgotten Diners, small hotels. Where or what is MRL No. 84 and does the Senecca's Hotel still exist, where is the Bluebird Diner? I know nothing about the companies who made them. Only their names and logos; Shenago, Jackson, Victo, Sterling, and my favorite, Buffalo. Occasionally, after midnight I sit in my kitchen and drink the last cup of coffee for that day. I think of the Diners, the neon sign coloring the snow green or blue at the end of the block and I am connected to the thousands of moving hungry travelers who once held this cup. I love old Dinerware.

10 degrees for the third day in a row. I brought in a sprig of holly for the solstice and today it bloomed. Red berries from last year on the bottom under pure white blossems on the tip. Spring hides waiting to be released.

10 days into photo diary, I think it is easier to just write one...I have resurrected an I Ching helper...the helper of common sense. She has a lot of work to do