windy unwinding of august

The wind picked up last night and was still going at it this morning when I ventured into the yard just as the faintest fine drops of mizzle were blowing my way.

It still gave me time to peek out from the side deck into the middle garden with its new gladiola beginning to bloom and the Ninebark having thrown out new growth taller than I. The Japanese Maple continues to thrive and you can see the height that the yellow-flowered Ligularia Dentata has gained in the garage garden.

Walking down the deck, I have already been plucking cherry tomatoes for snacks.

I walked out to straighten that free-standing twig trellis that has blown askew. Clearly we're not committed to installing them as anything but decorative. 

The bit of view we have now that the old aluminum tool shed is gone.

On Sunday, as I hung laundry,  I heard a squawking as the mated pair of pheasants

flew by in succession.

The wind tossed little maple is gaining height, at the foot of which is the honeysuckle that has stayed quite well trimmed since I pruned it in April.

I wasn't sure I'd find any peas, but must have picked a dozen.

The blossoms promise more to come.

On Sunday, as went out with the laundry, I was quite confused by the gray lump I saw in the far corner of the yard. My distance vision is poor and it took several seconds for me to realize that it was our little peach tree bowed right to the ground. I called Wally to straighten it out, amazed that its little trunk hadn't snapped.  It will soon be time for picking. 

With nowhere to put my peas, I rolled up the bottom of my shirt to make a basket and added this fine bunch of green beans.

Heading back towards the house I stop for a visit with the friendly bumblebees in the lemon thyme

It's time to do something with all this basil.

Last night I sketched out this little scene in coloured pencil. I wonder how far I'll get with it today.

The previous picture was partly inspired by the fantasy background I did for this fox,

all done in coloured pencils.

Let us be grateful and release.

Wisdom is letting go of something every day.

something always happens

This must be the fastest flying month ever and yet it seemed to start out so slow. Those of you who check in here may already realize how I struggle with time, "the elastic band" as I call it.

I was sure I had nothing to show you today besides my growing portfolio of drawings, but somehow I managed to pull together a few pictures.

I peered down into the composter, filling with clematis,

creeping Charlie, an Echinacea Coneflower and even a weedy little tree.

I wandered out back of Forget-Me-Not Cabin and had another gander at the old wood shed we've been slowly dismantling, with no need for firewood anymore.

Our home and outbuildings are filled with handmade bits like this wooden spinner

this metal one

another rusting metal bit with washer

Looking from the other end you can see the makeshift bracing for shelving from a post and plywood and sticks

A homemade plywood bracket with its partner...

nailed to the wooden shake wall

Then there are the grapes, still intact

and a few apples hanging on

a nice little cucumber under the bean trellis

and tomatoes filling in amongst the dill

The wide angle lens dwarfs the far end of the vegetable garden with chard at the top, two rows of lettuces, and some tiny kale at the bottom

I pop the last perfect raspberry in my mouth

There are Cherry leaves in the lawn

another

and another

The garage garden has completely filled in with the hostas and the "prehistoric" plant.

As you will know from past posts, I am fascinated by the way the flowers seem to grow in a pod, a most unusual flowering. I finally had enough wherewithal to look up the name of this wonder.

It is called Ligularia Dentata, also known as Leopard Plant or Summer Ragwort.

Dentata refers to the jagged leaf edges. Collected and introduced to Europe by Carl Peter von Thunberg (1743-1828), student of Linnaeus at Uppsala University in Sweden. He made three trips to the Cape of Good Hope 1772-1775 where he collected about 1000 new species, Java and Ceylon (Sri Lanka) 1777 and 15 months in Japan (1775-1777) where he befriended local doctors who gave him hundreds of plants new to Western horticulture.  He succeeded Linnaeus as professor of medicine and botany at Uppsala.  Knighted by Swedish King Gustav.(thanks to heritageflowerfarm.com)

bursting forth, blooming in succession

They seem so gently coddled in their basket of leaves that I call a pod

though of course it isn't.

The bumblebees like them, face buried and rather camouflaged

I was startled to learn that bumblebees only live for 28 days.

I've grown very fond of them and their gentle ways.

Still playing catch-up with some week old pictures, I was inspired to do this piece after watching Jean Arthur play Calamity Jane in the old western, The Plainsman.

This section of my sketchbook is made of cheap quality kraft paper, the kind used for wrapping packages. The black is actually my Derwent watercolour pencil in Iron Blue, the flowers are outlined with an extra fine Pitt pen in India ink and coloured in with white is gel pen with pink pencil crayon over top.

The rest is done in Jane Davenport "Magic Wand Pencils" .

On another day I felt the call to draw a swan after seeing this mosaic online that comes from the Basilica in Soli, Cyprus. The patina of something old, its faded colours and random damage is a distinct part of its charm, its "wabi sabi".

My swan is fussed over with white paint pen and gel pen, the rest of the colours a mix of coloured pencils, the flowers outline in extra fine Pitt pen, an India ink.

I'm not sure how this will affect the world at large but there will be a partial to a total solar eclipse depending where you are in North America on Monday. Ours will be partial with a forecast of full sun, or maybe I should say no clouds.

Whatever you do DON'T LOOK AT THE SUN without proper protection!

And to see you off today here is one of my favourite performers Gracie Fields singing

Looking on the Bright Side (1932)

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