In the latter half of January, it always happens: I see spring coming. For several weeks the most growth in the garden has been of the green algae in my fountain, because I’ve neglected to put in the drops that prevent it. The sun shone briefly this afternoon, but by the time I got outside to clean leaves and redwood needles out of the little pump, I had to do it in a drizzle. The drizzle faded to a mist, and I could take a couple of pictures. The fruit trees have been pruned, and the sedum is sending out new shoots that are little cups to collect the fine rain.
Indoors, how companionable to have this color of paint in my new sewing room,
Kelly-Moore’s Quiet Drizzle:
Yes, work progresses, slowly. You can be sure that when I have
more complete results to show you, I’ll dedicate a long post to those refreshing views!
Just before the weekend linked May to June, I drove north to see two of my children’s families and to be with Annie on the day of her graduation from high school. Her brother is graduating from college this month, too, so the afternoon barbecue was in his honor as well.
In the northern parts of the state winter was having its last fling all the way until Sunday; only a week before, Pippin had to put off her planting on account of snow, and I drove through a thunderstorm on my way up. When one downpour ended, the wind would blow the pine pollen around wildly, so that while Ivy and I lay on the grass birdwatching into the oak tree, a fine yellow blizzard suddenly whirled above and around us.
I stayed at Pippin’s. The morning of the graduation party, before I piled in the van with their family to drive up into Oregon, Ivy and I took a walk down the road and back. We saw strawberry flowers and the carcasses of wild animals, and some strange natural art.
It appeared that the same pine pollen that was plastered all over my car and lay as yellow dust on Pippin’s iris flowers had fallen on a driveway and then been washed by the rain into an intriguing design. We’ve been trying to imagine who or what prepared the asphalt “canvas” beforehand in such a way that the natural events could form these patterns.
Just a bit later, after Ivy had washed her hair for the party, she and Scout showed me their collection of artwork from the past school year. It was hard to choose which of several dozen pieces to take away on my camera, but here is a little gallery:
Bouquet of flowers including book-, pencil- and butterfly-flowers,
in a detailed and highly narrative and symbolic vase.
And then, Pippin’s picture of the last storm Saturday evening, and Jamie:
I’ll be showing you more of nature’s art in another post, but here’s a bit more human artwork — clever and beautiful use of natural wood — which I saw just as I was leaving town to come home. I put my car in reverse and backed up a hundred feet to the side of the road so I could take this picture for Pom Pom especially, but I know there are lots of other art and mushroom lovers out there.