Island of Suburbia

Far and few in-between, our yard of lush native nature, an extension of the wild and wooly countryside that city folks often run to on their escape mode weekends...we are not the darling of the city planning association.

The wild ones visit us less often then before, as the expanding neighborhoods isolate us from natural nature.  The box turtle migration is relegated to past memories, and the raccoon tots filling up on ripe juicy grapes haven't been back for many, many years.  Rabbits surprise us seldom with our yard now far from wooded terrain.  We lament their babies are no longer viewed in the gardens.  Skunks still roam the nights and some days, but they must be one of the most misunderstood creatures to roam our world.  I've researched their ways, and have successfully gardened with them close at hand, but not out of worrisome eye sight.

I know I have lizards in the rock piles, but they are impossible to be viewed easily in all this haphazard greenery and fluff.  Pond frogs plop-plop into water before I get close for a view.  Tree frogs have delighted us visiting on the sliding glass doors.  Garden toads are sometimes viewed in the early evenings as they make their rounds for yummy ants and garden slugs.  The leopard frogs haven't been seen for more than a decade, and one summer a Norwegian rat caused quite a stir.

A pair of voles busied about a few summers ago while friends panicked and assured us they would overpopulate the grounds; but you know they disappeared with hawk and owl visits.  I miss them munching about the wildflowers and grasses.  Mice are few now, but amazed once to stand in their path as they crossed in front and behind me until I uttered a sound that sent them scurrying for cover with their bad eyesite not to their advantage.  And those wonderful winged and earthbound creatures we call bugs, insects, beetles, arachnids...their varieties numbering into the multi-thousands...totally amazing.

It's mostly about the birds, though; those angels and devils of the heavens that are always searching for new digs as man wipes out the old.

The ones you don't give two hoots about...house sparrows and starlings.

The ones you give one hoot about...northern ravens, american crows, rusty blackbirds, common grackles, and rock doves.

The ones you give a lot of respect to...cooper's hawks and barred owls.

The ones you give ten hoots about...northern mockingbirds, blue jays, cardinals, house wrens, carolina wrens, tufted titmouse, black-capped chickadees, song sparrows, white-throated sparrows, white-crowned sparrows, flocks of american robins, american goldfinch, downy woodpeckers, red-bellied woodpeckers, the common flickers that haven't been seen in the gardens for almost twenty years, eastern bluebirds, red-breasted nuthatches, cedar waxwings, mourning doves, common nighthawks, tennessee warblers, slate-colored juncos, purple finch, common redpolls, and on and on and on.

Nature's always in flux as species thrive and species die.  She adapts the best she is able...I'm a mere dot on the horizon in my small efforts to give her half a chance of at least lasting my lifetime.

            No Hope

            She has enslaved my weary heart in chains,

            so demanding and much unforgiving...

            only on me will I lay any blame,

            such vanity so intoxicating.

Pink Turtlehead

Wild Senna

Light orange Butterfly Weed

dark orange Butterfly Weed

Dark Green Bulrush pond plant

Southern Bush Honeysuckle 'Butterfly'

            The Nature of Beggers

            Weet weet

            weet weet...

            two mockers

            in baby fluff

            call impatiently

            for momma

            and food.

            She stuffs

            them plump

            with sunflower

            chips stolen off

            the deck railing.

            That same railing

            the night before

            found an opossum

            in search of

            bird treats;

            with Dustin barking,

            growling with intensity

            safely behind closed doors

            at that long tailed intruder

            adorning the deck trellis

            watching safely

            from his perch...

            for drought has a way

            of bringing nature

            closer to my backdoor.

Woke up one morning to find this 3 pound

concrete statue in a new position.

Maybe the opossum?

Clematis viorna seed heads

Spicebush berries

American Beautyberry-White

            *why two cats and a dog

            should never have adopted

            a gardener*

            sweat burned eyes

            peek through wisps

            of wind frizzed hair

            aching fingers still

            in a death grip

            around those

            dulled pruners

            as the sun rests

            below the horizon

            with the job

            half unfinished

            and resignation

            is erasing the

            determination

            of a tomorrow

            absolutely free

            of #%!(&* work

            because

            Andee,

            Zoe,

            and

            Dustin

            are wondering...

            will dinner

            become

            breakfast

            as they wait

            and wait

            and

            wait

               *

Coolest place in the gardens

Persimmon just before Dustin gobbled it up...crazy pooch!

Prairie Patch Dragons

May all your problems be ittsy bitsy ones

and

all your blessings more than a hundred hands full.