Wide wide world
Wednesday, 11 March 2020
Old Fourth Ward Park: still no leaves.
Also revisited the Gold Ford. Front right tire is getting soft, BTW.
Musings
Spring is pacing itself this year
Tuesday, 10 March 2020
Big news! Our quince is blooming again! [Didn’t it already bloom in…January…yes, the 10th! Wow! Twice already!]
Meanwhile, in a neighbors’ yard: bumper crop of hyacinths. This bed is south-facing, so I would have guessed that it had already peaked, but wrong I am.
And, elsewhere, the breakdown crew is busy on a hollow-core stump. Fungal advancement.
Mmmmmmmm (zen)
Monday, 9 March 2020
I can almost forget the substantial stock market drops around the world when I petal-gaze.
I also find zen in the quiet of still(ish) waters and bald cypress knees.
However, at the same time I find the water-green worrisome: is an algae bloom coming on?
No Rolls C’n’ardly
Sunday, 8 March 2020
This is a very rare sight in our neighborhood. On the street, no less, and not in a driveway. A desperate driver/mechanic?
On the other hand: sun and flowers.
Title refers to a common nickname, albeit not unique, for my ancient Ford van. It was ripped from the vehicle’s taunt/description/jeer/catcall: “It rolls down one hill and c’n’ardly get up the next.” Also: slightly Cockney.
Tree-bird
Saturday, 7 March 2020
Returned to the park to work on photography skills—and get a dose of vitamin D, of course. Lovely Malus petal cloud.
Found the heron once again in residence. The Guru summoned all his photo-skills to focus on her/him through the vines and branches.
Soon, the bird had had enough, and flew to a high branch on the artificial island. S/he’s on the left side of the tree, just to the right of center in the image. The ducks are not amused.
Clear sky
Friday, 6 March 2020
You see the frog-baby, and you know we visited the ATL Bot Garden. And: note clear sky and sunshine. [We won’t discuss the accompanying windy conditions.]
Found women (volunteers?) weeding and tidying, and this guy, the only guy outdoors, tree-climbing. We saw three ropes in the area, but only one man, so did one guy (this guy) wrangle three ropes, or did this fellow’s buddies desert him for a late lunch break?
Bulbs are champs.
Hothouse foreigner.
Spines! …in the expanded cactus garden.
Temporary architecture. In Spanish (or the Spanish that I learned in rural México), this is: toldo con sombra.
Looking at details
Thursday, 5 March 2020
Established magnolia trees send up a profusion of suckers under the shelter of their leaves and branches. Dunno what the red machine is; lost leaf blower?
Rumor has it the rain will be gone tomorrow! Yay!
Yellow in the green
Wednesday, 4 March 2020
This moss is shaded much of the growing season, so it’s getting a jump on its 2020 progress now that it’s warm enough.
Tricked once again: this is winter jasmine, not forsythia. With a holly-leaf background. Did you know there are twelve holly species native to Georgia? I read that somewhere…oh, in Athens at the BotGarden.
Before the sun
Tuesday, 3 March 2020
I was antsy and left the house shortly after the rain stopped; that’s why it was still flowing in the gutters.
The rain brought down a good crop of camellias under this bush/tree.
Loving a new sighting of purple crocuses; lovely color.
Birds and bees
Monday, 2 March 2020
Early on, sunlight appeared, colorfully.
Then, things became grey and overcast. Never seen this stockinged grey cat before, yet he appeared today in my regular activity area. I heard his bell first. Tag indicates he’s named Hugo. More of a mule name than a cat name, but still okay.
We must be due for rain; this birdbath (previously featured in this space, I admit), was totally dry. By an hour later: rainfall arrived…and is supposed to continue off and on until sometimes Thursday. Sigh.
Oh, the title…I realized as I walked that I was hearing more birdcalls, more calls and more species…even the one I call the Rarebit Bird, because the call sounded like that to me when I noticed it and I was, I dunno, four big years old…and still sounds to me like “Rarebit.” I did identify the species a time or two, then forgot each time, but I need to do so again.
And the bees part…I walked around a corner and could smell smoke, not dominant like a house fire, but more ephemeral, as from a fireplace. But the odor was a bit off for firewood, although I cannot describe it. I looked high for a white wisp; nope, but a movement caught my eye. A man stood on a nearby porch wearing a funny outfit, with a strange and lively box at his feet. I looked closer. A man in a protective suit with a bee-box…and on the opposite corner of the porch: a bee smoker. It all fell into place.