Laughing Ravens

 I started out tonight, wanting to write about loss and grief... shit that makes me blue. But blue doesn't reflect my sadness. I like blue. As a child it was my absolute favorite color. I could never understand why folks saw sadness in it. When I feel the pangs of grief, they tug at the wet cold greys and the icy mud.  Fragmentary Blue Robert Frost (1874 – 1963) Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue? Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)— Though some savants make earth include the sky; And blue so far above us comes so high, It only gives our wish for blue a whet.   Blue-Butterfly Day Robert Frost (1874 – 1963) It is blue-butterfly day here in spring, And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry There is more unmixed color on the wing Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry. But these are flowers that fly and a...

  This weekend, we lost power during the wild windstorm that screamed through on Sunday afternoon. All afternoon we had watched as the wind roared through the trees. We joke that anytime a squirrel farts in our woods, we lose power. We expected to lose power as soon as the winds started picking up. Of course, we had just picked up a load of cardboard for making new garden beds. The winds tossed those everywhere but where we wanted them.  The rain started coming down sideways like a wave of needles. For a good solid minute, none of the rain hit the ground... no joke. It was all sideways. Never seen such a thing before!  And then, just as quickly, click and the lights went out.  We assembled the candles and flashlights. Our phones had more than half battery power. We settled in for a late afternoon blackout. It was 4pm. It looked like 8pm outside. Not total darkness...but visibility was next to nil. The sun hid behind the clouds until it had squeezed all of the rain ou...

proof that eventually the sun does shine here in Trumansburg     But proof, yes Proof is the bottom line for everyone  -Paul Simon "Proof"   Thanks to the sun finally coming out, the solar panels have started generating more power than we consume in a day. We have had 8 days with sunshine since Dec 22 when we turned these panels on. Why do I bother showing photos of our solar panels? Strangely, because it marks the end of our lawn in this part of our yard. My goal, this spring and summer, is to turn this grassy space into new beds for our garden. I've mowed this spot for 24 summers (and I am sure this will elicit some grumpy contention)... and I have hated mowing it ever single time. I dont love the smell of freshly mown grass. I dont enjoy the smell of pouring gasoline into the mower. Just not my thing. Instead, we're going to lay down many carloads of cardboard and dozens and dozens of wheelbarrow loads of woodchips in this spot. It's about 60 feet by about 18 ...

  hydrangea paniculata (not sure which variety) Walking through the garden this year, there are no bulbs up. Everything is still asleep. Last year was a very early spring after a very warm winter. We had iris reticulata blooming around this week. Not this year.  This year, all the plants have been asleep under thick blankets of snow. But there have also been plants that want to be awake early, like children on Christmas morning who refuse to sleep in. There have been plants who pulled the covers over their heads, refusing to admit that the sun has risen for the first time in four months.   comfrey leaves, melted into a thick mulch over the winter There are some plants that have chronic bed-head... like this gaillardia. It was stunning in the summertime, and all through the autumn it kept blooming until snow put an end to the show. Now its long stems are tangled up like tumbleweed. At this rate it's hard to imagine it will ever wake up.   gaillardia stems from last su...