Tuesday, 14 July 2026
This has nothing to do with the picture or my personal events of the day, but recently I discovered (or, probably, was reminded) that the loons of North America are called divers in the British Isles. [This is another example of common name confusion.]
Monday, 13 July 2026
Surprise (sarcastically): these milkweed pods are infested with…milkweed bugs.
Sunday, 12 July 2026
I had thought I’d make a Big Basil Dinner over the weekend, but I did other yummies. This means guess what’s on the menu for the coming week.
Friday, 10 July 2026
Returning to Georgia, we avoided a traffic blockage on I-75 by taking the old road for a stretch, including passing by Lake Allatoona. Long ago, I spent months finding and recording sites on the land around the lake. Eons ago….
Our traipsing later took us by this urban art. I found the multiple figures influenced by a diversity of styles and subjects quite interesting, especially in their juxtapostion. From left, I see an unfinished face? with goat horns?, somewhat bulbous words/letters, a cat with a crown, a looming serpent, a prehispanic central Mexican-ish figure in profile, a step pyramid, a long-haired woman, and a scythe.
Thursday, 9 July 2026
The low-angle light was especially pretty this morning.
Then, taaah-daaah, we got on the road (OTR). The “marine” layer was thick-ish at The Bridge, and, also, we understand from others who treked north, along Lake Superior at Grand Marais. Since it was present through mid-day, and the sun had long been out, I’d say that’s a persistent layer.
We drove in and out of rain zones….
We even saw a rainbow. Apologies for the snap, but you know they don’t last. I tried to get another shot, and the color had become almost imperceptible.
Ohio has upgraded rest areas along I-75 to have almost lounge areas and museum displays in them.. Outside, there’re signs about native plants, mostly trees, but this is a showy not-tree I don’t remember seeing before (my ignorance is vast). Also, there’s a loop to stroll with many signs to study, I think part of Dolly Parton’s books-for-kids-under-five outreach program somehow (didn’t take the time to walk it—next time?).
Wednesday, 8 July 2026
This was an hour after sunrise, and the sky portends precipitation. And, indeed, we did get some rain, enough to call it rain, but no storm, just dripping. Then, ta-dah, clearing for the rest of the day.
I recall sweet peas blooming all around the cottage, mixed in the orchard grasses. Today, only a few are left. Maybe they did better when the grasses were cut by this time? Dunno. This one’s hanging with a yellow goatsbeard gone to seed, and perhaps another that has already had its seeds blown away.
Otherwise, we had a chore-filled day I really do not want to detail. Onward.
Tuesday, 7 July 2026
I’ve been watching the development of this distinctive large plant that’s next to the trail to the compost pretty much since we arrived. I was certain I had a shot looking down at it when it was all curled together at our arrival, but: nope. This was 15 June. Deep red flowers
By 21 June, it was far more unfurled. I have no recollection of ever seeing this species before, here or elsewhere.
Here it is today, mostly shifted to developing-seed mode from flower mode.
Looking this plant up online, it’s common name is houndstongue, and it’s native to Europe and considered one of the worst invasive plants in this state. Geeze. I guess I should whack it tomorrow before the seeds are viable.
I already did some biomass management this morning, clipping the flowers off the hogweed plants in the swamp north of us about 3/4 of a mile. I didn’t have the energy to dig up the plants, which might really get rid of them, but that removal should halt new-plant generation.
Aha. Found it. This was 6 June.
Monday, 6 July 2026
Swans and the old fire tower, closed to the public the last time I walked by it several years ago.
Reflections on still water….
Sunday, 5 July 2026
I hypothesize that these are the same two fawns we saw yesterday, here visiting in the early afternoon. And I saw them again several hours later in the same spot.
We’ve been seeing these distinctive footprints on the beach by the dozen…finally figured out they’re made by wild turkeys…which I have neither seen nor heard around the property.
