Category Archives: Seasonal

Time for a Wee Break

Posted on by

Leaves do miraculous things. ~Hal Borland, American writer, journalist, and naturalist

This is the Red Oak that my son Domer helped me plant last year:

Red Oak, September 2024

I did the best I could with its care — watering it, talking to it, and trying to keep the bugs off it.

One of my neighbors (a Master Gardener, no less) advised me to buy that green bag zipped around its trunk so I wouldn’t have to guess how much water to give it. She said a slow, steady drip would provide a proper foundation.

Still, the nasty Japanese Beetles chomped on it with glee. Notice the ragged limbs on its right side:

Red Oak, November 2024

Notice also how miniscule it looks, particularly in the number of leaves and that skinny trunk.

Red Oak is supposed to be a fast-grower, but I started to fear I’d never have shade.

What a difference a year makes:

Red Oak, November 2025

I hose-watered it this year — deeply and on a regular basis throughout the growing season. I sprayed it with something called Neem Oil and banished the bugs. And my oak grew taller and fuller, with a much bigger trunk and leaves that were almost as big as my hands!

And notice that delightful red-orange color!

I guess I did something right after all. Or perhaps, the tree is thriving in spite of me.

Anyway, Happy Fall, y’all! And Happy Thanksgiving feasting! I’m taking a bit of time off but will catch up with you in December!

(Nearly) Wordless Wednesday

Posted on by

Around and around the house the leaves fall thick—but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow. Let the gardener sweep and sweep the turf as he will, and press the leaves into full barrows, and wheel them off, still they lie ankle-deep. ~Charles Dickens, English novelist, journalist, and social critic, from Bleak House

Dazzling Autumn

Posted on by

Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night; and thus he would never know the rhythms that are at the heart of life. ~Hal Borland, American writer, journalist, and naturalist

Do

You know

What a joy

It is to see

Autumn exploding

In brilliant shades of bronze,

Scarlet, lemon, and orange

When nobody thought the leaves would

Do anything but turn brown and drop

Before winter’s chill could make the trees bare?

 

 

Note: Poetry form is Etheree.

Walking with Monkey 2025

Posted on by

October sunshine bathed the park with such a melting light that it had the dimmed impressive look of a landscape by an old master. Leaves, one, two at a time, sidled down through the windless air. ~Elizabeth Enright, American writer, illustrator, literary critic, and teacher

I Monkey here.

After I upchucked my lunch, Mama decided we should go on my Walktober (something about her being okay with vomit outdoors but NOT okay with it inside on her carpet — huh).

Don’t feel sorry for me, though. After everything was up, I felt just fine and was raring to GO. Tag along while I show you some of our Fall color (such as it is).

Let’s go, Mama — gee, you’d think she was the one vomiting!!

Continue reading →

Walktober 2025

Posted on by

Nowhere can I think so happily as in a train. — A.A. Milne, English writer best known for creating Winnie-the-Pooh bear

Once again, it’s time for Walktober!

(You can read the details about it — dates, etc. — at Dawn’s blog. Join us if you can — the more, the merrier!)

This year, I decided to change things up a bit. The walk I took last year was breath-taking but having talked to others who live in that area and learning how desolate (and potentially dangerous) such a solitary walk could be, I opted to surround myself with living, breathing humans!

Continue reading →

Oh, Butterfly

Posted on by

Love and a cough cannot be hid. ~Proverb

There once was a saucy butterfly
Who clung to a bush by and by
He fluttered his wings
And did everything
To catch a pretty miss’s eye.

Note: Poetry form is Limerick.

Flowers on a Monday

Posted on by

Arose early, went out to flirt with the flowers. ~Thomas Edison, American inventor and businessman, diary, 1885

My blogging friend Eliza regularly participates in something called In A Vase On Monday, sponsored by Cathy at Rambling in the Garden.

I love those posts — the creativity and the beauty — but I’m reluctant to cut the posies from my yard (or somebody else’s!) for fear the mother plant would die.

Continue reading →

Growing A Zinnia

Posted on by

I did nothing but comfort my plants, till now their small green cheeks are covered with smiles. ~Emily Dickinson, American poet

I confess you were an afterthought,
A spur-of-the-moment something I bought.
I found you nestled in a dahlia patch,
Your color stood out from the rest of the batch.

I asked the clerk which one she’d choose.
With no hesitation, she pointed to you.
“I think you’ll be pleased” is what she said,
So I put you in my cart without any dread.

I planted you where you’d get sun and shade;
Watered you, guarded you, and often prayed
That you’d be happy living here with me
And wouldn’t long for what wouldn’t be.

Just look at you now, healthy and lush!
Your colors are radiant, making me blush.
For my part in helping you thrive and grow,
I couldn’t be happier; my heart is aglow.

Note: Poetry form is rhyming couplets.

Walking With Joy

Posted on by

What a significance wild flowers have, more than the tamed productions of the garden! They seem Heaven’s own messengers sent straight to man to bear glad tidings of universal and undying love. ~Henry James Slack, English journalist, activist, and science writer

A

Fence line

Adorned by

Dancing flowers —

Pink, yellow, and blue —

Can’t help but make me smile

As I take my daily walk.

So much color! So much beauty!

I wonder if the homeowner knew

His patch of posies would bring so much joy?

Note: Poetry form is Etheree.

RIP, My Tiny Friend

Posted on by

All stories end in death, and he is no true storyteller who would keep that from you. ~Ernest Hemingway, American journalist, novelist, and short story writer

You

Were so

Tiny that

I didn’t think

You’d ever get big.

Yet a Pandemic tree

Had nothing to do but grow.

And over these past five years you

Did exactly that! Each year saw you

Get taller and fuller and healthier.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

While I hated to do it, I had to

Have you cut down so others could live.

Sacrifice is never easy

And I thank you, Tiny Tree,

For your superb service.

I’ll miss you, you know,

But you’ll live on

In photos

And my

Heart

Note: Poetry form is Double Etheree.