Ahhhhhh, yes
Thursday, 20 January 2022

Even when there’s a cold rain, a daffodil crowd makes me smile.
Thursday, 20 January 2022

Even when there’s a cold rain, a daffodil crowd makes me smile.
Wednesday, 19 January 2022

We were in the lovely filling of a weather sandwich today, with a high of an unexpected 62°F. Rain’s coming in tonight, and then by weeks-end something wintery will be somewhere nearby, perhaps even here, depending on which meteorological model is correct.
Tuesday, 18 January 2022

That Tonga tsunami sure puts our wintery weather the other day in perspective. We’re in a pleasant sunny, ho-hum mode before the next cold snap rolls later this week.
Monday, 17 January 2022

The wind has decreased, and will continue to fade overnight. The snow and icy bits are gone, and even protected plants are acting like the winter weather has passed. But it is cold, and we may see snow again, what is it? Friday, I think.
Thursday, 6 January 2022

A neighbor used to have one of these lovely scented shrubs, and he told me the name of it, , yet I managed to forget. Unfortunately, he removed it from his garden, so I can’t ask him again with a specimen present. Of course, I have to spot him outside, too, and I haven’t in a while.
Not that all of this is important to you in the least.
Wednesday, 5 January 2022

I know this as nandina, but not from my childhood, instead from my later nursery-working days out east of Portlandia. Turns out other names are heavenly or sacred bamboo. Note that the berries and all parts of the plant are toxic to birds and animals. The species is native to Eastern Asia. I rather liked nandina when I worked in Oregon for its leaf shapes and patterns, but I’m less interested now that I know more about it.
Monday, 3 January 2022

Despite the sunshine, I braved a cool-bordering-on-cold wind, and learned once again that walking with the wind in sunshine is much more pleasant than walking in the shade and against the wind. Note how these bulbs are using a bit of added heat from the thermal mass of the adjacent low wall to get ahead of the curve.
Friday, 31 December 2021

Since we heard fireworks last night, and not at midnight, I suspect there’ll be a concert of them tonight. I already hear distant, strange pops, which I’m crediting to a build-up to the expensive midnight ones. These are “neighborhood” noises, and not sanctioned events.
I’ll be trimming this basil for our New Year’s casserole, which is a non-traditional black-eyed pea and greens dish that I’m making up. I’m hoping that because I’m using the “regular” New Year’s Day ingredients, it won’t diminish their good vibes for the coming year. The casserole will have many veggies with cream, cheese, and a dusting of bread crumbs.
Friday, 24 December 2021

Our fine decorative wooden bench in the front yard is a lichen wonderland. My latest gardening success?!!
Thursday, 16 December 2021

Our first notable sight, however, was a covered bridge made of blackened, tarred (?), timbers. Private. Keep your vehicle off.

Today’s headline has to be about the long views, however. Especially long from the top of Mount Mitchell. Highest peak east of the Mississippi, if you can read the fine print.

And up in that rarified atmosphere, the acid rain is killing the most susceptible species (hemlock?), and the tree skeletons are being colonized by mosses and lichens. Life goes on.

At a lower elevation, another tree skeleton, very artful.