I took the back road into town the other day and turned off Little Green’s motor while waiting for a train to cross the tracks. This footbridge was off to my left and I couldn’t help wondering why anyone had bothered to place a bridge here. After all, it cut off only a small corner.
Maybe they had some grant money they had to spend.
SadieSue has been getting acquainted with the cattle. They aren’t afraid of her, but she’s careful around them. She seems to want to play. They’re going to be buddies if she has her way. There is a mutual curiosity club going here.
She hasn’t dug up any more of my pots, but has accidentally tipped a couple over in her haste to jump on or off the step. This pot was left out over winter and had some volunteers in it this spring. One was this weed — I’m sure it’s a weed, or maybe a wildflower — and the foliage is pretty so I’ve left it in. Anyone know what it is?
All kinds of weeds/wildflowers and bushes turn up and often my admiration for their leaves, and curiosity about how they’ll flower, has led me to let them do their thing. Sometimes that’s regretted. But not always, and not when the plant is confined to a pot.
Because of Sadie’s proclivity for chewage, the surviving-in-one-piece plastic watering can is hung out of her reach in one of the oak trees.
Two weeks ago there were dozens of goldfinches at the feeders. Lately there are none. I hope that’s because they’re busy sitting on nests or finding insects and worms (fresh meat is more desirable than sunflower seeds?) for their birdlings, and not because the merlin family has chased or hunted them out. The merlins make a lot of noise these days and zip past the house often. Their nest is well hidden in one of the tall spruces. I can see them fly in, but can’t spot the nest itself.
A woodpecker was at a feeder this morning, so somebody is making use of them. Wrens are nesting in the birdhouse. A big fat dark-chested robin likes to sit on the climbing-rose trellis outside the kitchen window. There’s a catbird in the lilacs; it’s a noisy thing — superbly talented in the mimicry department — that rarely shows itself, unlike the song sparrow that perches on the south end of the row of lilacs and sings its little heart out. Showoffy little friend.
Last time I sat at the fire, a catbird alighted in the caraganas nearby for a few moments — they’re known for being curious enough to come out if you sit still long enough — almost as if to say “Why are you over here? Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” I’d been craning my neck the evening before, peering into the lilacs, never finding the catbird, only impressed by the variety of sounds it reproduced in imitation of other birds.
Now what else can I tell you before I get ready to go to town for that boob-squishing I’ve been looking forward to.
Here are the oriental poppies before and after the rains. Their petals have all been knocked off. They would’ve fallen anyway, mind you; they only last a couple days:
We needed the rain so I am not complaining. Everything will grow double-time now.
Seen on my walk:
And Sadie, for Marms:
Still not a close-up, but eventually I’ll get one.
And now! Up, up and away!