morning garden

These are the dog days of summer, named for Sirius, the dog star, its brightest in the night sky this time of year, that seems to be timed with summer's greatest heat and its ensuing lethargy.

I open the windows for Muji, this morning's shot of him, and Babu, until it's just too hot.

I rarely venture out mid-day, unless it's to hang laundry or fill the birdbath. Mornings and evenings are my time to escape.

This morning, however, was a touch cooler and I ventured out.

the Purple and Mauve Petunias with the deep blue Lobelia in one pot

and the pretty pink Dahlias in another

pink and white geraniums and mauve petunias 

morning dew on a flowering onion 

too pretty for one shot

zucchini blossom

more zucchini- each blossom represents a zucchini squash to come.

upper left: garlic... below: lettuce... middle: swiss chard... upper right: peas

blueberries

peaches

This year we've put bird netting around our little tree

to keep the blue jays from pecking the living daylights out of our little peaches

Bird Netting will hardly discourage the deer from taking our Harelson apples,

but one can always hope.

The hydrangea are hanging as if it has rained, but now it is their own weight that keeps them bowed.

Wally's new rose bush is blooming again

Tiger Lilies are finally blooming

a white hollyhock in the lily garden

looking back towards Forget-Me-Not Cabin

in back of the cabin looking Southeast there is the spicy scent of Sweetgrass, but it must be the Goldenrod which is so prolific this year.

the hayfield looking East Southeast

Everyone, including me, seems to be sneezing. It's not just the goldenrod. There are all kinds of pollens in the air.

and now looking east

At my feet, the vetch is weaving through the honeysuckle,

its little pods beginning to dry out.

The Fibonacci Swirl in action on this drying weed flower and more subtly in the flower itself.

The Echinacea around the Composter are thriving,

the Lavender below. 

Little yellow pollen stamen are skirting the seed head of the Echinacea

This makes the Bumblebee happy

as he gathers pollen on his back legs

The Sweet Pea wants some of the action and is tangling itself up on this Echinacea seed head which is actually shifting to seed as its pointy orange bits burgeon out.

The long spires of the Liatris Spicata, commonly known as Spike Gayfeather, 

reminding me very much of the beautiful menace that can fill up waterways in Muskoka, and Nova Scotia too, Purple Loosestrife- but not nearly as invasive.

It  is blooming from the top down and is actually the colour of the buds below the top blooms. 

That's my camera for ya.

The pictures keep coming. I've come to accept that it doesn't matter where I start; a picture is going to come out of it. I scribbled the wolf one day. You must understand that animals come easy to me which is why I concentrate so much on faces these days. It's an indication of how tired or distracted I am if I revert to animals. I did this over a week ago. The cutout is from a new pack of them that Tim Holtz is putting out. I came upon a damaged pack yesterday and got it at a substantially reduced price so you can be sure you will be seeing more of them. It's fun to have something quick to resort to though it actually took me quite a while to place her in this eerie position. 

pencils crayons, Ranger white "opaque" pen, Sharpie gold paint pen and the Tim Holtz paper cutout

Don't Stop Believing In Yourself

all pencil crayon but for some India ink Pitt pen and 7 Gypsies rub on letters "don't stop"

I went to bed that night after writing "believing" not wanting to end it there.

I came up with "in yourself" after realizing how far I've come in so many ways.

I wish the same for you.

There is a world of possibilities to choose from.

It takes a long time, sometimes, to discern which is the road to take.

The Road Not Taken 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

by Robert Frost