Tag Archives: Monarch butterflies

The day that the LORD has made.

Sweet peas in September!

Do you know a chorus or hymn to those words in my title?

This is the day that the Lord has made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it.

We used to sing it in the Bible churches that my family attended back in the day, and now I sing it in the Orthodox Church, in a different setting. Many times recently I’ve had cause to meditate about the significance of both the fact and the exhortation in those lines from the Psalter. Often I wonder, as does G.K. Chesterton,

Here ends another day,
during which I have had eyes, ears, hands
and the great world around me.
Tomorrow begins another day.
Why am I allowed two?

I could not possibly list all the things I am thankful for every day. But I can occasionally write a blog post about a few of them, which I am doing this afternoon…

It’s Sunday, so fresh on my heart is the most extravagant and Life-giving thing: that I was a recipient of the Holy Mysteries of the Eucharist, the very Body and Blood of Christ. I was not kept at home by illness, nor was my attention distracted from the service by pain — right there are two of those Things That Didn’t Happen that are always infinite in number for any of us. If we are feeling grumpy, thinking on those non-events, the ones we wouldn’t have desired, can help move the mind in a positive direction to things that actually exist.

If my garden is full of unsightly areas, and posing problems for me to solve, I can go for hours or days without worrying about them, because I am so thankful to have a garden of any sort.  I feel like saying to God, “I have a gorgeous fig tree! How can it be possible that I also have a lemon tree, a begonia, and a fountain??”

Time Management is a term I do not like. Long ago, I used to think a lot about my days in terms of T.M., and it wasn’t happy thinking. It was Happier thinking when I was sitting on the couch with several children around me, reading A Child’s Garden of Verses, or Winnie the Pooh, or The Jungle Book.

Anise Swallowtail

Another Happy kind of thinking is when I walk around the garden considering all the wildlife out there. Currently we have caterpillars feasting on the plants, including two Anise Swallowtails in the parsley patch. On the milkweed, Monarch Caterpillar #2 has entered the pupa stage, and Caterpillar #3 is still munching. This is a pollinator gardener’s joy  ❤  and I hope that there are dozens more caterpillars that I haven’t noticed, that are reaping the bounty and thanking God with me. …even if they are Cabbage Whites, which like to eat everything — though I haven’t seen many of those around this year.

Monarch chrysalis

The problem that Time Management poses is, “How can I get everything done?” But I now know that I can’t. Whenever I’m doing one thing, like typing here, and/or exulting in the caterpillars and flowers, I’m not doing dozens of other things, which threaten to Never Get Done.

There is some kind of Russian proverb that I remember roughly as, “If I don’t die today, I can do Those Things later. If I do die today, it won’t matter that I didn’t do them.” 

Even King David could not do everything he wanted. He wanted to build a temple, and God even told him that was a Good Idea, but that it wasn’t for him. It seems like the vast majority of Good Ideas I’ve had throughout my life have not or will not come to fruition, so they will remain in the Theoretical category. I want to focus on the Real things that I am participating in right now.

It probably wouldn’t have mattered, if I hadn’t got a delivery of firewood this month. I feel a little silly about it, because I still have wood left from the last two late-summer deliveries. I will definitely be prepared, if the power fails. After Bea and I stacked it, at one end of the rows that were left over, it seems that I must have well over a cord, and maybe I won’t have to buy wood next year. The newer, golden logs are on the left, and the oldest, grayest ones on the right. It looks like rolling hills of cordwood; that wasn’t planned.

Last week I drove my friend Mrs. C to the coast, where we ate clam chowder overlooking the mouth of the Russian River, in the town of Jenner-by-the-Sea. I had been mentally dragging my feet about spending the time, but once I got out the door the day unfolded perfectly. It was the Day That the LORD had made, after all. If I had stayed home, I may have cleaned the bathroom (probably not), but I would not have been able to watch a hundred pelicans swirling, swooping, and doing belly flops on the river. Even the fog was not unpleasant; I had forgotten that it would not be a cold fog out there. Inland it had been quite rainy, but by the river we were able to sit outside, where blackbirds joined us at our table and welcomed any crumbs we offered.

The recent rain was a very welcome change from the chill winds we’d been having, that made me fear for an early departure of summer. Once the clouds moved in, the temperatures rose. I will be able to relax again, and hope for more figs ripening.

Several butternut squashes are ripening on the plants that have spread into the driveway. This one peeking out (above) is one of the largest. The rudbeckia at that corner of the driveway has been blooming for months and months and I have been amazed at it all summer. But it is winding down…

Just before the rain, I had bought a flat full of plants for that challenging area by my front door. These are all species that can thrive in Part Shade. I will hope to plant them this week or next; ajuga, violas, cranesbill, dwarf plumbago, and more.

A late calendula.

My leafy green seeds have sprouted, indoors and out. I harvested a pile of that basil that had been calling to me, and made pesto. There’s been a lot of Happy Thinking-Thanking through the days in Gretchen’s Garden. It helps that more than any other month, I love September.

Sunday afternoon…

At church we had quite a few people received into the catechumenate before Liturgy. Of them, I had only met one family before, and I sat with them at the agape meal afterward. I had mistakenly thought it was my turn to work in the bookstore right off the dining hall; when I found out I had the “day off,” I switched gears, and got in line for a plate of chicken and rice and vegetables.

First I sat with the new family, and another catechumen joined us, and they told stories about how they got to this place in their life where they have committed to follow the Orthodox path. A couple more people stopped by to chat and share news. What is the best news? We suddenly have at least three families expecting babies!

After that conversation broke up, I moved out to the patio and joined another table of friends, and caught up a little bit on their lives. Twenty years ago one of those women and I had been in the same catechumen class together. Last spring she learned through a series of freak events — which could only be considered providential — that she had a serious genetic heart defect, and within a few weeks had open heart surgery to correct the problems that had developed without her being aware. She is on the mend now, and I was grateful to sit there by her as we rejoiced together in her survival, and in our very existence.

When I finally came home, I watered the Italian Silver Rib Chard seeds I’d planted in the ground on Friday evening, in a place where plenty of morning and midday sun will shine on them and give them a good start in the next weeks. Saturday I seeded parsley and other greens into 4-inch pots in the greenhouse. I don’t want to transplant them into the ground until I have cut down the asparagus jungle; right now it would shade that area too much.

I drank tea, and read a few poems, and articles about poetry. I’ve been sitting here just being thankful for poetry, and how happy it makes me to read poems that I like. I really want to memorize more of my favorites, including Psalms, though I find it really challenging these days.

At this point I ought to insert a short poem. Instead, I will show you the new Monarch caterpillar I discovered, ten feet or more away from where the first one disappeared.

We are pretty sure the first one didn’t crawl across the wood mulch that far to find this relatively healthy patch of leaves to munch on. So this is Caterpillar #2, and he was still there ten minutes ago when I went out to check on him; he seems to be making himself into a J shape, which is what they do before forming the chrysalis.

One of the Narrow-Leaf plants has managed to make a few narrow seed pods, in spite of the severe aphid damage. I hope they develop to the point of splitting open to reveal the fluffy white contents.

The Japanese anemones I planted not long ago are starting to bloom. In the front garden I have deep pink ones. They seem very robust, but they are afflicted with powdery mildew, poor things. And many of the flowers have fewer petals than is normal, or they are differently arranged — hmmm.

While I was out checking on the caterpillar, I snacked on a few fruits of the Arbutus unedo, known as the “Strawberry Tree.”

This year I’m not going to the mountains in late summer the way I usually do, so I have more time to enjoy the garden — and pay better attention to it. Figs are starting to ripen, and the basil crop is abundant. Time to make pesto!

Today was a lovely warm day, with sunshine. Now it’s evening, and nearly the eve of September. Good-bye to August!

Meals and sweet fields.

Who is likely to finish off the Narrow-Leaf milkweed?


Would it be the Monarch caterpillar or the aphids? That was my question last weekend, when Bea spotted the lone caterpillar, and we both took pictures of it. The next day it was still chewing away without any sense of impending scarcity. Unfortunately, that particular plant had volunteered to grow all on its lonesome, far from the clump of like species on the other side of the plum tree.

The following day, the cat was on the ground, but we propped it back up, between the leaves of Autumn Joy and a milkweed stem….

But the next day, it had disappeared. The few remaining milkweed leaves were left to the sucking insects. Maybe a bird had enjoyed our little friend for breakfast? It was nice to know you, little caterpillar….

A happier sight is nearby: Right there on the vast fields that are Autumn Joy flowers, can be found plenty of food for all the bees  — or hairstreaks — who want to come. And they do!

What the deer and I notice.

When Ivy shook the crabapple tree, dozens of fruits thumped down on the grass, alerting the deer across the street. Right away one mama hurried over with her two fawns to  accept the offering.

I’m at daughter Pippin’s for a few days, having many literary, outdoorsy and even poetic adventures. Five hours farther north in California than I live, and at higher elevations, I’m enjoying the more dramatically aromatic and visual signs of fall.

In their back yard, dozens of mushrooms have sprouted: these are Western Black Elfin Saddle, and Spectacular Rustgill — plus one I didn’t identify.

Higher up where we played at the edges of a lake, various plants drew our attention to them because of their beautiful colors, and even Pippin learned a new species: Dwarf Bilberry. In our sightings it was often set off by azaleas turning color in a wide range of tones.

At the lake we discovered schools of baby trout, minnow sized, in a sunlit pool making for a natural fish nursery.

The most surprising thing close to home was a Monarch butterfly in Pippin’s garden, seemingly having wandered way off course; they are never seen in this part of the country, and this is the wrong time of year, as well. It was fluttering among the extravagant dahlia flowers, and we encouraged it to light on a white one, or any color more complementary. But it preferred the red one.

Just below is a picture of this year’s most startling bloom, maybe 9-10 inches across, “Belle of Barmera.” I never get bored looking at these beauties, which are planted inside a high-fenced garden to keep them from the deer. This was one of the years that the deer poked their heads through and ate some anyway.


It’s been quite a rich visit as far as natural wonders go.
I hope to tell about other sorts of fun I’ve had, very soon.