Buttermilk Biscuits and a Handful of Magic

The luxury of all summer's sweet sensation is to be found 

when one lies at length in the warm, fragrant grass, 

soaked with sunshine, aware of regions of blossoming clover 

and 

of a high heaven filled with the hum of innumerous bees. 

    

~Harriet E. Prescott, The Atlantic Monthly

Maybe a juvenile blackbird

Hibiscus moscheutos, swamp rosemallow

Hibiscus Bee - Ptilothrix bombiformis

Maybe a type of Longhorn Bee, or a Leaf-Cutter Bee

    In the sky alone is infinite variety. Yesterday, it bent above the earth a hemisphere of thinnest turquoise, fleckless as those Tuscan skies travelers delight to recall. Looking upward, I watch the sunlight as it spills itself upon the foliage, and I see the oak leaves making argent-green arabesques upon the blue of the sky.
    To-day a chain of cloud-cliffs guards the coast of some cloudland Albion, while all below is a faint blue suggestive of leagues of ocean that had fallen asleep at their feet. But the moments stealthily move on. An hour ago, the sky, like a sea, was covered with cloud-yachts, all their white wings spread. Now, I look up from my book, and lo! the airy shallops have sailed away to far harbors of the nether world. 

    ~Sister Mary Blanche (Elizabeth King, b.1852), "A Summer Siesta," Idyls and Sketches

Clethra alnifolia, Summer Sweet

I'm not sure of the bumblebee species.

It's not one I have noticed before.

Right lower corner: Green Sweat Bee and Honeybee

Summer Sweet, 'Jeana' Phlox, Purple Cone Flower

Here and There

Sweet Charlotte

Silver-spotted Skipper, Epargyreus clarus

on Rough Blazing Star, Liatris aspera

Lilium speciosum

(Pollen fatal to cats if they consume any.)

On such a day, the mere intaking of one's breath is a joy. The sky spreads above us, a shimmering sea of blue — not the cool and crystalline sapphire of early morning, but the deep dense azure of midsummer noon. How hot the bees must feel in that furry coat! As we lie basking in the sunlight, and watching the buttercups dancing and dipping above the grass, like golden banners amid an army of green-bladed bayonets... We see the hot air quivering and simmering above the clover fields, but all else is drowsily, dreamily, still. The streets of the far-off city are reeking with dusty heat, but here we are in another world, and the bees and the butterflies are our brethren. This meadow is our boundless prairie; our heads are below the level of the grass tops which spread filmy arms above, like the boughs of a miniature forest. 

~Coulson Kernahan 

I'm all ears - Austin

Joe Pye Weed flower buds

Thread-Waisted Wasp - Eremnophila aureonotata

Mating on a windy day.

Tuckered out...

A moth.

'Tokudama' Hosta

For years this was thought to be a species,

but it has never been found in the wilds in Japan.

It has been changed to cultivar status.

When the girl returned, some hours later, 

she carried a tray, 

with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; 

and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, 

cut thick, very brown on both sides, 

with the butter running through the holes in it 

in great golden drops, 

like honey from the honeycomb. 

The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad; 

and with no uncertain voice; 

talked of warm kitchens, 

of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, 

of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, 

when one's ramble was over, 

and slippered feet were propped on the fender; 

of the purring of contented cats, 

and the twitter of sleepy canaries. 

~Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

Chickadee on the flying trapeze

Okay, you little show off, it can't be that hard.

What the...

Whoaaaaa... change direction!  CHANGE DIRECTION!!!

What do you mean, I'm top heavy?!?

Getting there... getting there...

WHOAAAAA!!!

Pump them wings...PUMP THEM WINGS!!!

Upright successful... coming in for a landing...

THERE!!!  Easy peasy, you little twerp!

What a duffus cardinal.

Is that Mr. Cheshire at the window??? 

Family of juvenile cardinals on the hornbeam tree

in the front garden.

Hitting that cardboard cylinder with metal ends on the edge of the countertop ended with an explosion of the smaller variety as flour coated dough squeezed through the opened seam while little hands quickly twisted the cylinder all the way open.  What a delightful moment for a youngster helping mom with the preparation of dinner.  I grew up on lighter than air biscuits from the refrigerator section of Joseph’s Market.

At some point, I acquired a small Shaker Cookbook, and the first recipe I tried from that cookbook was Sister Lettie’s Buttermilk Biscuits.  As a person who never understood the attraction of lighter than air biscuits, I was intrigued by ingredients that looked more appealing than just plain biscuits.  They were amazing!  They doubled in pleasure with half of the white flour changed to equal parts whole wheat and stone-ground cornmeal.

I must admit, I have neither sifted the flour, nor measured the buttermilk that goes into the biscuits.  I just mix it all until slightly sticky. divide into eleven pieces, roll each into a ball with lightly floured hands, place into a buttered pie pan, flatten with back of my hand until biscuits touch each other, and baked.  Perfection!

It’s quite magical how the simplicity of just flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, butter and buttermilk can create such a dense buttery delight.  A dollop of preserves to the finished product pushes it up a notch, while adding strawberries and whipped cream is as if one has died and gone to heaven.  To say more would be too much.

This beginning to my writing is all that is left, as I condensed the rest into nothing to save face for my mind being a sea of alphabet soup with letters not coming together into words that interest me.  It is what it is, and that's all it is.

Love and hugs -

Yvonne

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