Tonight we ate veggies from the neighbors’ garden: mini-cucumbers, leaf lettuce, broccoli…all super-yum. We ate basil from our garden*…snipped atop a pasta-tomato sauce mixture [okay, I admit: the ingredients for that was from various groc stores].
I kinda think the basil made the main dish phenomenal!
* Our garden consists of basil…and a pair of barely rooted spearmint stems. So we pretty much harvested all we had! [Not enough of a garden to get through the winter….]
We got antsy this afternoon and took what on another day would be called a Sunday Drive. No destination. No agenda other than Getting Out of the House. Which is a fine goal.
This place is called Eagles Nest.
And here’s a Great Lake and some low sand dunes, foreground, and much higher dunes in that rather distant shore-curve.
Wandered down a dead-end road and found a half-barn. What beams! And the silo is wood, too, with metal straps encircling the walls one above another.
I’ve got two interesting pictures today, I thought, embarking on this post. This one has immediate punch. Color. Drama. Visual clout. Floral!
Yet, this one of the growth end of a cucumber plant is in many ways far more interesting. Look at that unfurling foliage drama! So much mystery unfurling pending. Flowers are lovely, but cucumber plants have flower AND produce food.
No honest way to compare the pair.
Around noon, things got rather quiet here, as our social-distancing houseguest left…zoom zoom. Then, we discharged our batteries with a few chores and, this evening, dove into the new “Perry Mason,” which is nothing like the TV Perry Mason’s of my childhood (in re-runs near you).
This photo is from last night…and the bright dot above the moon is…(have I already forgotten?) Jupiter?. (Too sedentary right at the moment to check my app. 😴 Lazy gal.)
I’ve been trying to snap this cluster of white birch trunks for a few days, and every time I bring them into focus they have a beige/brown cast on the screen that I don’t see in reality. I know I can remove that in post, but I kept trying to find a situation where the camera wasn’t “confused” by the color. Finally, this oblique angle (both me and the sun) produced relatively true color.
And this is a close-up (duh) of a mullein (Verbascum thapsus) leaf (top surface). The fuzziness appears like another world’s surface.
I went in for a swim and kept seeing these dark Thangs on the bottom that had little depressions in the sand around them like clams, but didn’t look like clams. Took me a while to figure out they WERE clams, but so festooned with zebra mussels so they no longer had exposed clam shell. I suppose that the clams can become overburdened with the invasive mussels to the point that they can’t move and can’t eat. It made me sad to see the many poor clams all dark and rough and weighed down.
The illusion in the photo is that the grass is rooted between the old bark and the wood; however, the stems are growing up almost two feet behind the bark to emerge into sunlight at stump-top. This does not make me sad. Having the white pine cut down did, though, and immensely.
Is a grapevine tendril.
Was a peony blossom.
Call it cinquefoil or call it potentilla, it’s a pretty, modest flowering shrub that’s hardy enough to survive in northern climes.
When the Manistique River is high this time of the year, the lake it flows from must be high, too? Roight? And it is. And it has been. For years. We go from drought years to this in, what?, just a few years…and this high-water has been with us for, what?, a decade?
The lake it flows from is a shallow lake, big and shallow, and the speed boaters always had to take that into account…like anchor their boats well off-shore (takes some depth for those big motors) and take a dingy in, and the like. Well, those folks like the high levels. The rest of us watch our property wash into the water and disappear. Not happy-making.
In short, Lake Michigan is high. The feeder rivers that flow into it are high, and everything upstream is water-filled. Welcome to climate change, this local version right at present.
Today’s official palate-cleanser flower….
I have only a wee-teeny meteorological knowledge of clouds, and that weensy database includes no name for this pattern. I hereby name it a radial cloud pattern.