Tuesday, 6 June 2023
Nothing looks quite like the swamps (local term; specialists may use another term, I dunno) of these parts. Perhaps no open water, like this example. Cattail swards. Skinny pines etching the sky. Calls of ravens or crows, sometimes both, with small twinkle-toned birds flitting here and there.
Sunday, 4 June 2023
This morning I did some grass-whacking around this planting, and oh. my. heavens…the lovely lilac scent. It inspired and lulled me.
Varmit count: 1; one woodchuck…no sign of woodchucks before this afternoon visit. Go away! You are not wanted here.
Pest count: hundreds; scads of carpenter ants serially invading the porch. And removed in discreet (kinda) dustpan loads, at approximately half hour intervals. This is what we do for exercise. Heh.
Friday, 2 June 2023
There’s a hole in the boat! Well, yeah: catamaran…by definition a vessel with twin, symmetrical, parallel hulls. Less draft and less resistance plus greater stability than a monohull.
This one docks in Munising, and takes tourists along the Lake Superior shore to view the Pictured Rocks—multi-colored sandstone cliffs with blue and blue-green waters lapping at their knees (as it were).
We didn’t take a boat tour today (our mission was farther along in Marquette (new watchband)); perhaps we will sometime soon.
Thursday, 1 June 2023
Despite how dry-dry-dry it is, the lilacs are lovely and, oh, the aroma…I’m so happy to be here to enjoy it, although today’s high is something like 86°F, and that’s way too hot for these parts, especially at the very beginning of June.
Wednesday, 31 May 2023
Which is better? Lupines against the sky?
Or, lupines with moon?
I’m going with: both are lovely.
Sunday, 28 May 2023
I’ve found the apple-blossom display so stunning I have been distracted from finding other beauty. Today, ah, well, the progression of time is obvious. I saw the first petals falling like supple, oversized snowflakes. It’s trite, perhaps, yet an honest summation.
Saturday, 27 May 2023
We took an early evening stroll, and spotted both the East and West Herds. That’s what I’m calling them. White-tailed deer. This is the East Herd, numbering at least eleven. This specimen did a version of King of the Hill, although it may be a Queen or Princess; I do not have gender info. Posing, anyway.
Returning to our property, we found the first blooming lupine of the season—by that I mean with color, as there are buds everywhere. I think the earliest ones last year were in this same spot. Don’t know why…better exposure doesn’t work…perhaps to do with local soil conditions and moisture? Dunno.
Friday, 26 May 2023
I missed the sunset stroll window. Still, I found a gorgeous subsequent-sky. And a hum of mosquitoes. You might think the drone was gnats or some other species, but, nope, skeeters…biters.
So, I kept moving, and headed for the lake, hoping for a bit of anti-flying-insect breeze, and discovered it’s a quiet night so far.
Tomorrow morning, as a result of the quiet, if I am up early, I may see dew cloud amazement in our field.
Wednesday, 24 May 2023
First produce from the property. Yay! These were easy finds, right next to the chives up by the garage. Both species are likely escapees from my great-grandparents’ gardens.
Had to go to town and the Guru was off doing Man Business, while I wandered the parking lot of goodies, an outdoor showroom, basically. I was not shopping. I was collecting information. This beauty was larger than most of the similar vehicles on this lot. The smallest ones were like two-seater golf carts. This is nothing like that.
And neither is its price tag. Yikes. This is way more than our also brand new pickup when we bought it back in 2019. However, this Can-Am beast comes with “all options,” which is totally the opposite of our pickup. Still.
Tuesday, 23 May 2023
The soil is dry, dry, dry. See the v formation of the lupine leaves? It’s too dry for them to open flat. I’m glad to see a bud on the way…there probably won’t be very many…we shall see.
Any property means chores, and they have begun. This is on the short list for near daily forays with shovel, carry-bucket, and truck (for removal to a burial location). “This” is Heracleum maximum, invasive cow parsnip, also phototoxic. Yuck. I say near-daily because the mosquitoes are viscous (intentional mis-spelling), and I just can’t face them every day. [Can you tell I’m trying to talk myself into doing a session tomorrow? I did other important items today and skipped cow parsnip removal….]