the circus

this past week, the circus came to our town. the little girl and i had had our tickets for weeks, and we had talked of little else. we drew circus pictures, read circus books, looked at circus websites and we counted down the days.

the morning of the circus, she and i were up and out early with a picnic breakfast to watch the big trucks roll in to our small town. in the clear morning air, we watched the lead trucks park and saw the first workers disembark, dressed in jeans and sweats, with ponytails and caps, ambling around slowly, yawning as they drank from big paper cups. presently more long red tractor trailers arrived, some with clowns painted on the side, some with windows suggesting animals on board. we watched while workers swung wide their trailer doors, popped the sides on campers, released small dogs into pens, and began the work of setting up the cages for the tigers. in a while, animals emerged from the backs of trucks, slow-moving and old, plodding down ramps to be tethered or caged. tigers. camels. a zebra. llamas. we so hoped for elephants, but we could not wait. in time, we needed to move on to other less exciting events of the day.

by late afternoon, we were back for the first show, elated to see the ball field transformed with cages, canopies, and wagons. in the middle sat the giant circle of a tent, reaching high above the midway and festooned with pennants. inside the big top, we sat high in the bleachers, laughing as pink cotton candy dissolved in our mouths while we waited for the show to begin. to our delight, the ringmaster appeared, calling out, "la-deez and gentlemen, and children of all ages...", just as we knew he would. for the next two hours, we marveled at acrobatic tricks and laughed at the slapstick antics of clowns. we hooted as a swashbuckling pirate balanced on two, then three, then four cylinders. we held our breath as the aerialist swung so high and so fast, she touched the top of the tent with her toes. we applauded elephant tricks and the sequined ladies who climbed up high and rode astride them. we were amazed by the tigers, standing and dancing on hind legs as they pawed the air and roared for the crowd.

all too soon, the show was over. a wobbly camel ride and the purchase of an overpriced inflatable elephant finished the evening. reluctantly we walked from the circus grounds, stealing glimpses back, knowing we would have been happy to attend still another performance, to visit again with the elephants, to experience the magic well into the night.

and as quickly as it came, the circus was gone. the next morning, the field was empty, with not even a discarded ticket stub to show that such an amazing event had taken place there the night before. the circus trucks and trailers were gone, taking the animals and the clowns and the sequined performers to some other rural spot to thrill some other little girl - and perhaps her grandmother, even more.

seaside plants

going through vacation photos tonight, i realize just how many pictures of plants i took! i know the rugosa rose, of course (the whole place smelled like them!) and orange jewelweed and tiny not-yet-gray bayberry. but i don't know the name of the green berry that matures to red. it grows high on a bush, not close to the ground. any ideas?

on the walking path

this is the view at the end of the trail that leads from the house to the water. this lighthouse, rebuilt and renovated, was originally commissioned in 1806 to guide sailors safely to shore. it's awe-inspiring to think that two hundred years ago, on a clear summer day much like this one, someone may have stood on this very spot to gaze across the channel at this same sight.

beach flowers

not at all sure what these diminutive flowers are, but they thrive here on the rocky outcroppings of the north atlantic.

fireworks!

over the calm ocean, the day old full moon competes with a lightning storm at sea. nature's fireworks for the fourth!

independence day

gotta love small town parades. kids on bicycles, decorated convertibles and pick-up trucks, candy tossed to the crowds from makeshift floats, and lots of red, white, and blue! happy fourth of july!

shell moon

amazing the colors of the full moon in the evening sky over the ocean. the full buck moon is what the july moon is called in new england, named for the time when the new velvety antlers of deer begin to push through their foreheads. but deer and woods are so far removed from this place tonight. the rising moon i see is the pale pink of the inside of a slipper shell and i am renaming it after that. just for tonight.

not yet full

but still so beautiful, especially because it's over the ocean. i'm so looking forward to full moon rise tomorrow night and hope the skies are as clear as they are this night.

smart

finally.
and it's about time.

baking day

we're baking this morning, the little girl and me. it's a pound cake i've not made in ages and ages. one look at the list of ingredients will explain why! but we are baking today for a crowd and this cake will go a long way. so much learning about fractions and math, letters, reading and writing fill our morning. the only catastrophes - an oozing egg that missed the cup, and someone forgot to grease the cake pan!

still here

such a busy time of year, even now. still trying to close out my year in two locations, and additionally this week, i am spending my days taking care of the little girl. even though the days are fun and filled with laughter, nights are spent at work. here, unusual, undulating cloud formations in the evening sky as i left the building for home.

start of summer

the tiniest bit of orange in an indian paintbrush nestled amidst the abundant green of grasses up on the hill. from afar, it catches my eye this morning, on this first day of summer.

resting place

dragonflies have been sitting at the tip of the garden trellis all morning for the second saturday in a row. i watch them from my desk, wings glistening in the sun, resting for what seems too long periods of time. not sure what the appeal is to that location, other than a bug's eye view of the lupine, the peonies, the evening primrose, and the expanse of emerald grass beyond.

june 12 of 12: just an apology

sadly, there will be no 12 of 12 for the month of june. this morning, i thought i might be able to accomplish this but by mid-afternoon, i knew it was impossible. early june life is just too busy for anything more than this one evening shot. it's the raspberries in the yard by the comfrey. look at those tiny green fruits growing where the flowers have been. maybe theres 12 drupes? druplets? in there? maybe?

little things

a lovely fragrant end of year bouquet from a student's family, beribboned and presented in a canning jar along with a note of thanks. such a sweet gesture, so very much appreciated.

focus

in the foreground: comfrey.

in the background: raspberries!

white on white

a stark white moth, resting this evening in the shade garden, spotted as i rushed from the car between work-at-work and work-at-home. busy time of the year, june is. i miss taking pictures. i miss blogging.

meterological summer

today marks the first day of meteorological summer - june, july, and august, the three months traditionally thought of as summertime. i like this new-to-me fact, and i'll take it. i'd much rather have summer begin today than wait twenty more days for the astrological start to the season.

right over my head

for over a quarter century, i have lived in this house and walked in this yard. i take joy in noticing the small things here - i know where all the native plants are and when and how they change with the seasons. yet this is the first time i have glimpsed this phenomenon, which clearly has been going on high above my head, all this time. this abundance of yellow in a common green pine, so far away i couldn't quite make out what it was. with binoculars first and then the telephoto lens, i found these. are they pine cones? is this how they begin their formation?

every time i think i know it all, nature serendipitously displays something else curious and wondrous.

so many wishes

a huge field of dandelions, more than i've ever seen in one place, and every one of them gone to seed. imagine being there when a brisk wind comes along and all the tiny seeds fly!

new green on old

this time of year, greens in every shade and variation abound. but nowhere are they more apparent than on the evergreens - when the new growth, with its tender young sprouts, emerge from the previous year's darker green branches. the promise of spring fulfilled!

here we go again

the rising sun, through the window, through the screen, through the trees. i've been around this thing so many times now it's a bit staggering.

fingers crossed

a tricky time of year, mid-may is. frost is anticipated tonight and i do hope it doesn't come to pass. here's my favorite garden, days away from my favorite time of bloom. i sure hope it still looks this way when i get up in the morning.

gift

and it surely was.

may 12 of 12: the may flowers that april showers bring

twelve flowers from the garden and the yard. i snapped, snapped, snapped quickly so i could get out and get my hands dirty in their soil on this spectacular saturday!

bleeding heart, aptly named.

daffodils, still. these are the last ones. 

tiny with multiple flowers on each stem - my favorites.

forget-me-nots. 

started from one small plant several years back, 

they are now everywhere!

a lone johnny-jump-up. 

he's the only one i have in the whole yard. 

guess he jumped up out of nowhere!

lenten rose. not much to look at, 

but delicate and early blooming. and a wonderful name. 

i have about six of these, different varieties, different colors. 

money plant

from seed that was scattered into the woods by the yard. 

i keep waiting for these to produce real money. no such luck. 

pink phlox on the bank - and look! a tiny insect!

wild strawberries. everywhere. 

violets. also everywhere. 

white lilac. there are two huge bushes. 

they don't smell as good as purple ones

but i like them better anyway. 

white phlox. grows near the pink phlox!

some sort of yellow primrose. 

these came from an acquaintance's garden. 

not sure why i like these so much, 

but they're one of my favorites in the garden. 

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white trillium

two years ago, i planted nine white trillium plants at the edge of the woods. today, one finally flowered.

century camera

never have i seen up close a camera quite like this one. it was beautiful, all wood and shiny brass, with sections to open and knobs to adjust, sitting atop an elegant tripod with expandable wooden legs held taut by three brass chains. on the bench next to the camera, a box full of old film plates, framed in wood, and the bulb the photographer squeezed when he was ready to record his subject. studying the camera led me to wonder what sorts of pictures it had taken, what events it had seen, what formal portraits it had captured, and of whom, and for what long ago occasion.

birdless

from my window, the pink of the crabapple blossoms compliments the mottled colors on the birdhouse the little girl made me for christmas. it's been hanging for a few weeks now and, while i never really expected an occupant, i secretly hoped some little someone might call the place home. maybe it's just to early in the season.

morning mist

hazy light shines through the early morning mist, making the landscape especially ethereal. thankful i had the chance to get out, still pajama-clad and barefooted, to shoot in it before the mist rose, burned off, and was gone.

inside-out

the view out the window this showery april morning. this rain is much needed, yet inconvenient. it will force me to find ways to stay content inside, which is unplanned - but not difficult to do.

outside-in

messing about outside, while i can, in anticipation of several days of much needed rain. here's tiny bugleweed, inside in a small pot on the kitchen windowsill. this is taken from outside, through the window. i just wanted to see if i could get the shot, that's all.

spring gift

tiny spring flowers, scrunched and stemless, delivered by the little girl on a day they were especially appreciated.

bloodroot

six small plants growing in the woods at the edge of the yard. i planted it there a few years back, hoping it would take off, like my neighbor's down the street. not so, but i am still happy to see this small patch return year after year. i feel fortunate to have caught it in this state, budded up with the grayish-green leaves still furled tightly around the stem.

pea soup persuasion

the weekend after easter, the holiday dinner leftovers are gone, and all that's left are scrappy ham remnants and the bone. time for pea soup in my biggest pot. the girl's hubby will want some, and goodness knows i do. we wait for this all year! but, with my mother gone and my sole pea soup colleague having moved on, i know i am making much too much for just the two of us.

the girl arrives and brings the little girl. since she lately admits to liking peas, we are hopeful that this is the year the little girl will join the pea soup club. to set the example, i devour a small bowl in her presence, smacking my lips while i extol its creamy goodness. when i offer some, she says she wants only a "no-thank-you-taste" on the smallest spoon i have. i suggest she close her eyes, afraid the green color may scare her off. she does, but at the last moment, she pulls away - and i have lost.

i send the girl home with a heaping container of the soup. i'm hopeful the little girl's father will have more success with her than i did. if not, there's always the freezer - or all the more pea soup for him and for me.

green and growing

tiny maples, their first set of leaves just emerged on spindly stems. the plant above will soon suffer its fate at the hand of a maintenance worker with a lawn mower. the one below will be plucked or tilled under by the good ladies of our local garden club when they replant this iron planter in the village of our town. but for now, they are green and growing, a hopeful sign of spring.

easter 2012

first off, yes - the easter balloon arrived as it does each year. a few days early, actually, leading one to believe that the easter bunny was intending to be busy on the actual holiday - or perhaps out of town.  regardless, the balloon became easter sunday decor and the attached carrots were beribboned and hung as a front door ornament. the little girl was present for all of this and was quite taken with the tradition.

speaking of tradition, i am not one to deviate from long-standing holiday menus. easter is always ham, my mother's delmonico potatoes (aka "cheese potatoes"), asparagus and dessert is always strawberry shortcake on warm buttermilk biscuits. but this year, the little girl requested chocolate cake. with candy eggs on top, a chocolate bunny, and a big strawberry. i can't help but wonder if a new tradition may be in the making.