March Roars On

After several beautiful 70-ish days, the wind is gusting to 30mph and the temperature is set to drop 40 degrees by morning.  Weather!

But it's the very unpredictability of the weather, with its power to distract or detract us from our placidity as it shapes our lives, that I love so much.  Humans have thus far not managed to affect it on purpose, and that very fact cheers me.  I want (need) there to be an aspect of existence that is its own master.  For some reason, this gives me security.

So roar on, winds of March - take a mundane day or week or season and turn it all sideways.  Sideways was the direction of the day as all sorts of things went flying through the air!  I just hope the temp doesn't nip the just-beginning peach, plum and pear buds.

Pear tree just beginning to bloom next to the new Pergola.  Can't wait to be able to stain the treated lumber gray to match the house.

And here come the violets.  I've places that are carpeted with these, my favorites.

One of my two peach trees.  Also just beginning to bloom today.

And this little Spring beauty is Sinead - a recent adoptee.  Apparently she couldn't decide whether to be a red tabby or an agouti tabby, so she is both.  She won't hold still for pics and I so want one that will show the odd tabby "spot" on her left front leg.  I thought it was dirt for quite a while..

And it's official: Spring Blooms in Northeast Georgia

The lilies bloomed the day after I searched for signs.  It's been a few days now and the lilies (daffodils) are opening all over the yard.  Even the double daffodils are budding - though they rarely open all the way.  As I walked about in that too warm too soon kind of stupor (75 degrees!) I found a few more signs that Spring has arrived.

Daffodils are so dang cheerful!

  You can tell the doubles by their larger rounder shaped buds.  The long thin buds are jonquils.  I'll post more photos when these guys open up.

The Spring Peepers have been peeping up a storm for a couple of weeks, but yesterday and today the chorus cranked it up to a constant thrum.  With all that snow melted, my little pond is still running out the overflow pipe.  And though I wasn't able to get a photo, I heard a frog give a little croak and splash into the pond.  Just that one frog. I really wanted to get a look; I mean - what sort of tough snow-bird type of amphibian would jump into that cold, cold water?  Perhaps he's like those folks who jump into icy waters to see if they can get their hearts to stop. (Mine would.) Ummm... yeah, I know - they have some other reason for doing this but I cannot fathom what.

I found new growth on the old timely climbing roses and little buds on the Yellow Jasmine, too. Then I spent most of the day chopping back privet, honeysuckle and wild roses where they had completely overrun my azaleas and were working toward smothering the iris.  I felt rather guilty; being so happy to see new leaves and buds and all, and then hacking away at that same progress in the less welcome plants.  Here in the South - the jungle will out unless tamed from time to time.

Jasmine buds...  I love the splotches of red on the leaves and the pink/purplish stems.

Hope everyone gets an early Spring!

Searching for Signs

Just four days ago...  Snow!  Got to get that barn finished!

It was a beautiful day today in NE Georgia.  After a chilly start, the temperature rose into the 50's, and the sun was warm on my face as I puttered about the yard looking for signs of Spring.  Not much goin' on.  Mud in the sun and ice in that shady spots, but I knew there was at least one spot that was keeping my dream of Spring alive, so I headed for the edge of the woods down by the shop and there...

Today - Lillies!  Should be opening in the next day or two.  Amazing how fast things can change.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I found the faithful Lilllies shooting up and full of buds.  Last years leaves make a lovely contrast with the bright, bright green - almost blue-green of the leaves and stalks.  Or perhaps they are still a bit blue from being buried in snow!  A few more days like today, and buds will be forming everywhere.

Dreaming of Spring...

Winkle contemplates Spring of 2010...

It's the end of January and I am restless. Years ago when I dwelt in the land of lake effect snow there were five seasons: summer, fall, winter, mud season - and finally - spring. The end of January usually meant that the worst of winter was yet to come, followed by weeks of inevitable mud. Now, after nearly twenty years in the Deep South, I have come to expect the stirring of Spring in February - and tomorrow is day one.

These little daffs appear to be huddling together, having shed their leafy blanket a bit early...

Though we here in Northeast GA have just suffered our second major winter storm with snow and ice and power outages, - my senses are drawn to the first rather bold tidings of things to come. Believe it or not, these photos were taken just a few days ago as the temperatures reached the 50's - and the sun paid a rare (these days) visit.

I can't help but wonder if a bloom will appear from within the pot ...

Yesterday and today I was scheduled to run the galleries at Sautee (Sat.) and Tallulah Falls (today). I received calls from each to let me know they would not be opening due to weather conditions. As a transplant from the North, I was prepared to brave the cold and ice, but quite content to be told to stay home with the kitties and a good book. Luckily my power did not go out!

Not only are there daffodils blooming, the Spring Peepers have begun to sing in the woods. One would think they'd retreat with this return to cold nights, but thus far the little peeps are peeping still.

No - not my photo - I hear them, but likely won't see any until they begin to lay eggs in the pond.

A wonderful cocoon found amongst the blackberry canes.

Elvis came along for a walk before the sleet and snow began, but he just wouldn't hold still for a photo. Perhaps he was eager to get back home or spooked as we revisited the Fallen Dolly of the Dell.

Or perhaps he was pointing to this small "leafy treehouse"? Could it be the abode of a mousie ? It was only about 6 inches in diameter, so I can't imagine anything larger than a field mouse living here. Maybe it's used as a camp in summer ?We also found this unusual set of burls attached to a small sapling stem. I've no idea whether this is the product of a fungus, insect - or the plant itself, but it is certainly unusual .

Walking slowly at first...

Do you think it was natural causes?


One never knows what will be found in my woods...


One of my goals for 2009 is to get back into better shape and I thought I'd start out by walking every day. One of my favorite blogging artists Leslie Avon Miller has been posting her walk progress in mileage on the sidebar of her blog: textures shapes and colors. I thought it was a neat idea - and one that will challenge me to continue so I am shamelessly copying her idea.

I'm up to (blush) two miles!! Yeah - not much, but I just started a couple days ago, and I got sidetracked. Halfway down my 1/4 mile driveway, I realized I needed to go back for a shovel and clean out the dammed up leaves so that my steep road won't be crisscrossed by flash flooding. After 45 minutes of shoveling gravel and leaves, I 'd had a pretty good workout.

Though NE GA is still in an extreme drought situation, we've had three days of constant rain. The small watering hole in the upper pasture is full and overflowing the red clay banks with red, red water. The horses have clean water in their troughs, but they use this little pond for water sports, splashing and rolling in the muddy water on warm or hot days.

I usually have company on my walks; my goofy dog Frieda, the two Pyrenees, and a few kitty cats. I looked up at what I thought was a squirrel and spied instead a grey tabby fifteen feet up a tree. That's Madeline. She has apparently forgotten the broken leg of last year. Broken in two places, it was a challenge for the vet to pin because of all the small pieces. Maddy came to me from the rent-a-center where I was picking up scaffolding. The guy came out of the warehouse with my locking wheels in one hand and little Maddy in the other - and a sob story about how she was "gonna get squashed" if she stayed around there. So she came home with me and promptly broke her leg. I believe that's called irony. 'nuff said...

It's still winter - and though the trees have begun to blush with buds, the landscape is still rather bleak. But spring is marching out of the woods in the form of little yellow daffodils. These were hunkered down under the logs of a fallen pine that a friend cut up for me. Guess it's time for some spring clean up.

Sometimes it's the air, sometimes it's the smell. Sometimes it's the sound of water, sometimes it's the stillness. It's tapping into the transcendent, and teaching your heart to see it, and making your eyes and hands express it that creates transcendent paintings. - Gil Dellinger

As a transplant to The South, one of my great pleasures is that spring often comes in what used to be the middle of winter. Growing up, I was a heat loving person. I thought nothing could be finer than to lie in the sun; sweat trickling on bare skin, a cold drink and a book. Ah, summer...

Shortly after I married, I spent two years in Vermont. I say "spent" rather than "lived" purposefully. Though I found it to be unsettlingly lovely (like living in a postal card), I never could get warm - even in summer. In winter (which began in September) snow drifts eight feet high could cover the windows; temperatures of - 15 were commonplace, and just when I thought Spring must be coming, it wasn't. What was coming was mud.

Mud season must be experienced to be comprehended. Like most children, I had once adored playing in the mud, splashing about in puddles and building forts. But the mud of my childhood and the mud of Vermont's fifth season have little in common. In New England, we're talking black, sticky and deep - and it's cold mud - made up as much of slush as of water and dirt. Each night, the mud freezes, creating deep troughs and furrows into which small mammals have gone missing - and upon which unprepared Midwesterners twist our ankles and curse their muck. When there was still snow in the woods in June during my second year there, I informed my then-spouse that I would not spend another winter in that beautiful hell. "Summer" was six weeks of no more than 80 degrees. Blink. It's winter again.

That is all behind me now. I've lived in Georgia nearly nineteen years, and I think I will never be complacent about Spring in the South. For the past several days the temperature has been in the mid-sixties to seventy degrees. Tepid - almost warm - breezes kick up the chaff as I feed the horses their hay in my shirt-sleeves and lift my face to the still feeble slanted rays of a February sun. Sure, it may yet turn colder. We might even get another hard frost. But there will never be snow in the Georgia woods in June. I love you, Vermont - even more from a distance...

And now for some fun:

Some of my online buds have been challenged by mouse (aka kimy) to choose and write about ten words beginning with a letter drawn from "the jar." Kimy graciously granted my behest, and the jar did its magic, offering up a "W". W is perfect for me.!! It seems quite kismet, with so many of my interests and artistic subjects beginning with doubleyew. I don't recall hearing any rules, per se, but I felt my ten words should be the first ones that came to mind. Here goes:

Water. Cold, clear, clean, refreshing, wet, (heh). Rain. We're entering another year of prolonged drought in the Southeast, thus this is a subject forefront on my mind. Water is often rationed; water tables dropped. Fine old trees, hundreds of years old; dying. Lakes and rivers 20 + feet below normal. Water = life.

Wonder - The look on a baby's face as it gazes upon the world; the questions in our eyes as we ponder meaning and mystery. The wonder of it all. The wah-wah-wah -wah-wonder... And don't we all know It's A Wonderful Life... ? It is. We are full of life and wonder.
Wing - Wings, winged, winging. My artwork is lately filled with winged Black Birds; birds who fly upon the Wind (my third word) and into the wind and are blown by great white winds begotten of Warm (4) air masses colliding with cold air masses to produce Weather (5) and the Water (6) of life.

Warm. Yes. I may think I'm cool - but I'd rather be warm. Warm hands, warm blankets and fires and mittens. The warmth of the sun, a warm smile, a warming trend; heartwarming...
mmmm... warmth...

Weather. One of my fav subjects. Bridges all conversational gaps, affects everyone - and is all powerful. Rain, hail, snow, sleet, hurricane, tornado, cyclone, blizzard, thunderstorm - or a fine sunny day - all amazing.

Whiskers. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens... My cat Elvis' whiskers tickling my cheek; not a bad way to be awakened.

Whistle. What Jiminy Cricket said to do when you are afraid. The myriad whistles of birds, groundhogs, prairie dogs. whales and - yes - trains. A fine sound, rooted in our ancestry.

Whinny. I just had to put this in. It's the happy, soft greeting of my horses when I whistle. I've six horses here and each of them has a distinct sound - from a high trilling to almost a chortle to what can only be described as a soft murmuring.

... Kinda makes me Wistful...

thanx Kimy and all the other participants.

It's been fun to see what folks do with this.

The beautiful "Babygirl" - one of the sweetest mares ever... She's the one who "murmurs."