This is my neighbor’s tree. In the span of two days it turned the most brilliant, fiery scarlet orange—the kind of color that seems to pulse and throb in the sunshine. Two days later it had shed every leaf and its branches were completely bare. My neighbor is a diligent man, with a tidy lawn and tidy house and tidy children. He cleaned up the entire pile of leaves in one afternoon, before they were even dry. Before anyone jumped in them.
This is how my garden grows.
These little “postcards” from my garden were all shot within the last three or four days. I’ve been showing my garden in person to as many people as possible—to as many kind souls who will take a moment to look—but I also want to capture it here, to remind myself that I make my small square of the planet beautiful. It has come so far. This garden is a huge source of joy and relief in my life. It is source. It feeds me every bit as much as I feed it. More, really.
I could tell a story about ever single plant pictured here, but I know that’s kind of ridiculous. Suffice it to say, I hope you have enjoyed this tiny tour of the late April highlights.
I leave you with this last photo of “peace.”
My eyes are trained to the sky these days. I eagerly await these pretty winter sunsets.
They can be quite spectacular, I find. In the winter we get some beautiful cloud cover, so the sunsets are wonderful.
Sometimes I catch them with my camera. I rush to the end of my street, where we have a big school field.
Or I shoot from my doorstep. To me, these moments are peaceful and promising. If you are patient, you get to see a whole story of color unfold before your eyes. It’s like a reward at the end of the livelong day, if you take the time to notice it.
Sometimes I pull my car over to take a photo. My kids think I’m nutty but it’s worth it.
I love this one I took at my parents’ house. Their daffodils are coming up, so spring is on its way. Just thought you might like/need to know.
It’s done now, this spectacular display that happens in view of my front door every March. I look forward to this performance every year.
The petals have mostly succumbed to time and the rains. They’ve fallen to the ground.
But while they were here, they were admired.
Now the magnolia leaves are coming out, fresh and green, promising.
Yet lovely as they are, they do not hold a candle to these flowers
with this sky.
This last is the subject of my next painting. Wish me luck!
Sometimes ordinary things reveal extraordinary beauty if you look at them just so.
I have long coveted the window stars I’ve seen at the Waldorf school and in photos. I bought a book of how to make them a while back and got so overwhelmed by the complex instructions that I didn’t attempt one for a year.
Eventually, in my combing the Internet, I stumbled upon the right kind of transparent “kite paper” and bought it. My paper is square, so I can now make all the stars that require squares.
Many of the stars in this book require rectangular tissue paper cut to specific sizes and I haven’t tried that yet. I guess my rotary fabric cutter would do the job, but I don’t know if that would be bad for the cutter.
This star was pretty easy to make, although I had to ask Ian help me figure out how to assemble the five points into the star. It was confusing because the instructions were wrong in a couple of places. The book could use a good editor in its next revision, I think! Still, I’m looking forward to making more of these. They’re pretty.
