April? Already?

So much is going on that I have once again lost track of time.  I don't function well internally when overly busy with other people's tasks externally, though I love being busy with my own....  I suppose that makes me self-involved, but most artists are, by necessity.  So this blog visit has multiple themes...

I took a walk up the hill a few days ago and took some photos of the large Red Bud trees scattered there.  I'm hoping to flag a few small ones when they leaf out (small Red Buds don't bloom) to transplant nearer the house.  Red Buds in or near my yard have had hard luck.  Two were crushed under fallen pines, and the three I've planted have struggled and then died.  I think I'm trying too hard.  After all, they seem to thrive in the most infertile places.

Afterward, I followed a very obvious and well traveled deer trail through the scrub pines and over to open land again.  The red clay really pops against last year's leaves and the bright green of the pine needles.

Check out the phantom image in the tree below.  I was quite taken aback - and still am - but figured out the tree's bark had been peeled by my horses as a winter snack sometime in the past couple of years.  Apparently my equine have artistic aspirations.  But then again, it could be some kind of message for giant rabbits to interpret.

A tree that merged with a rabbit?  A frog?  A tale could be spun to explain...

They really should be called Hot Pink Buds.

Deer trail - looks well traveled!

Large and small deer tracks in the quartz littered clay.

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