Who says the old ground hog can’t be wrong or half right? This transition into spring has been a strange one. At least it isn’t officially Spring until March 21. All the strange weather fronts have brought a multitude of birds to my yard and feeders. I can’t go out the front door without being screeched at, dived at or otherwise harassed by my avian friends. I wouldn’t have it any other. I only hate that in two weeks I have to cut my three Leland Cypress trees in front of my house. I have several nests in the trees.
I’m putting my house on the market in preparation to moving back to Mississippi. All the hustle and bustle should make me happy, but part of me is sad to leave my home of 11 years. I think the move will be good and bring new possibilities, like seeing old friends and my grandkids more often.
I hope that my Blog followers stay with me in the move because I’d hate to lose you also.
As a child, as soon as the weather warmed we spent most of our waking hours outside. We walked everywhere barefoot and carefree. A long dusty road wound through thick woods to Grandma’s. As we walked to her house to play, we passed myriads of cascading purple flowers.
When I asked what they were, my sister call it Mysteria.(She used to tell me all kinds of things, and I usually believed her.) It made sense really, for the beautiful flowers hung heavily on the limbs, giving them a droopy, mossy look. I pictured it climbing the walls of some old stone mansion, digging into the rock and shrouding the old place with mystery and secrets.
Today I know the real name, and I still think the plant looks mysterious. I have often tried to capture the lovely blooms with my camera. The photographs never give full justice to the magnificent vine. I finally got a few shots that are decent if not prize worthy.
Please enjoy, and use your imagination to dream up a story about this flower.
Traveling down a country road, windows down and a cool breeze bringing thoughts of fall. A look up leads to confusion-the leaves are still green. All is not lost, color abounds in the ditches and I pull over for a glimpse of nature’s other fall color.Black-eyed Susan with happy yellow faces catches the eye first. Swaying gently in the breeze, they bring back memories of childhood, when we would grab a fistful with our chubby little hands and gleefully present them to mom. The cheerful color never matched the brightness of her smile.
The eye slowly moves to the perfect complement to the bright yellow. Purple/blue Ageratum grows profusely among the grasses and weeds and attracts a myriad of visitors like the fuzzy bumble bee. Drinking deeply it buzzes on, trying to get that one last taste of sweetness before it gets too cold.
Found among the branches, A Painted Lady Butterfly also gathers nectar as it zips from one bush to the next. Pausing just long enough to give you time to marvel at how well God paints. Her colors are so delicate, your fingers itch to touch, but you resist the urge.
Movement quickly draws the eye to the brilliantly colored Goldenrod. The Common Buckeye Butterfly balances lightly on the tips before flitting to another. Along with a sip of nectar, it picks up pollen on its hair body and ferries it on spotted wings to the next plant. So much for love and sex in flowers.
The Great Purple Hairstreak, shares the feast while adding a touch of sophistication to the banquet table. It’s bright red markings and unusual tail are attention -getters for photographers, if you are lucky enough to see them.
Evelyn Re submit of #24
A flash of orange among the purple flowers, heralds the Gulf Fritillary Butterfly. The beautiful back is nothing compared to its underside which bears a multitude of white spots.