New Years Eve 2022

Tis a quiet eve with monsoon rains falling,

dissipating the two feet of snow

that covered the landscape earlier this week.

Exterior Christmas lights extinguished,

I wonder why as the Christmas season continues

but to each ones own. My tree still glows.

Christmas cookies have been gifted to friends:

tins filled with Cherry Winks; Chocolate and Pecan Shorts;

Ginger Snaps; and Raspberry and Coconut Squares.

Rains have laden the garden bare of cover,

a cover needed but for now with warm temperatures

my fingers are crossed for its health come spring.

A Christmas gift to meself lays waiting for opening.

Another six books are piled on top of two dozen

awaiting to be cracked and read once night falls.

The History of the Lost Gutenberg is calling to me,

yet I need to finish one I began reading two months past.

The temptation to book mark is great, however...

My history, my paternal family research surprises me

with every twig I find them in West Canada and US,

always seeking employment and resettlement.

My voice, o my voice has returned with training

once having perfect pitch, somehow it had faded

but now I’m thrilled with its return, sing on!

As I surround meself with serenity of sound

and look out at the fog shrouded night

I give thanks for another year of love and light.

Tangled

 

Once strong an acacia branch

became tangled with a vine,

a grape vine, that wound

and wound around the branch.

Tendrils woven tight and securely

as a Celtic arm band or

perhaps a master wire winder

creating natures work of art. 

Mellow Yellow

I’ma catching up on postings...

In August I ventured to a local nursery, known country wide for its perennials. An hour away along one lane back roads, I left early and was the first to arrive on a sweltering Saturday morn. I do enjoy adventures.

Arriving I pulled into their parking lot, Exiting my vehicle, I was overwhelmed with the magic of the gardens. It is in a gulley and their native perennials and specimen trees fill the area. My first thought was this is the garden in Alice in Wonderland. The colours, the other-worldly blooms, overgrown plants, exotic trees, were exactly what Alice saw.

The owner meant me and provided a quick tour then left me on my own to wander. I can not describe the deliciousness of the display gardens, few words at all except to say I was in heaven. It said something of the owner when she refused to sell me a certain plant due to its invasive nature. It was a stunning plant but I took her advice and walked on.

After an hour of wandering I filled two carts with Hosta’s, Turtle Heads, Ferns and Anemones. My car was full thanks to the designer of hatchbacks. I was then off to another local nursery and left only when I filled every space with more pots of native treasures. Seat belts come in handy for larger pots. ;)

I chose plants with interesting foliage and blooms in 22 shades of mellow yellow. For every one pot to plant I had to move at least two. It took me three weeks to replant the shade garden. From sun up to sun down I moved, dug in compost, replanted, watered, stomped in then moved to another area.

Of course with every well laid out plant there’s a fall back. October saw warmer than normal temps and little precipitation so the water had to be turned back on and hoses set out. I’ve never experienced watering that late in the year. So there climate change deniers. It is real.

Plants purchased include Hosta Curley Fries, Lemon Lime, Forbidden Fruit, Coast to Coast, April Snow and Pauls Glory; White Astilbe, Lady’s Mantle, Songbird Columbine, Arablia Sun King, Turtle-head White and Hot Lips, plus a few more :). I’m looking forward to spring when all will burst forth from warm soil and provide me a calm yet bright blooming garden all summer long.

Bountiful Boxes

On each step my bountiful boxes

overflow with boughs of cedar, balsam, spruces and fir,

add to the mix of greenery with branches of golden beech,

and sprigs of bright red berries and ribbon wound,

creates a seasonal welcome to all who arrive.

winter solstice - haiku

early morning sky

the crescent moon announces

the winter solstice

End of the Season

Three weeks of raking and trimming have left me tired, bloody tired.  68 bags of leaves, a record this year and I hadn’t finished, made their way to a local farmer for his garlic beds.  What a sweetie he is.  Once the leaves were dumped and mulched he returned the bags for another fill.  “Hhmmm, it seems I’m doing all the bull work Glenn” I said after the last bag return.  He chuckled as he left with another full trailer.  Hopefully he will remember my contribution when the garlic is harvested. 

We talked about the quantity of leaves this year.  Tree’s were full and healthy after such devastation last year when gypsy moths ate every living leaf and left tree’s bare by August.  It was a sad, sad landscape.  With a cool spring, then lots of rain they recovered and gifted us with shade and coolness.  This pale redhead was ever thankful for the covering.

There is a movement to leave leaves until late spring so insects have a nesting place.  I’m for this in certain circumstances however my garden may have 4” of soaked leaves that prevent rain from soaking into the soil where it is needed.  I also don’t need the garden overrun with ticks or leaf rippers or lily beetles, etc.  Birds are well cared for as are pollinators.  I choose my enemies wisely.  ;)

One week past the temperature was 75F and I was toiling in the garden dressed in shorts and a T, finishing bulb planting and ensuring recently plantings were well stomped into the soil with a good layer of compost on top. Even violets had begun to sprout.  Five days later temperatures plummeted and soil froze.  Brrrrrrr, day temps are now 0F.  We knew it was coming just not this fast.  The garden and Pond is now in limbo until late March, early April when Mother Nature conquers the battle with Winter.  

I have saved oooo about four dozen Begonia’s that will need nursing, plus the garlanding of home and Christmas lights that need stringing and feeders requiring filling twice a day. Beloved plants are safely inside and Amaryllis potted for Christmas are growing daily.  While it’s a sad time of year reminiscing about bare feet in warm soil and inhaling fragrance from newly bloomed fleurs there still is life.  Only in bundled form.   

forgotten - haiku

strung in frosted webs

rusted urn marks forgotten

family at rest

All Hallows Eve - haiku

 

watching and waiting

famished scavengers perch high,

on All Hallows Eve

marble - haiku

ancient marble stone

rests in a forgotten place,

moss adds its beauty

Cherishing Autumn

 

While I cherish Autumn

dressed in splendorous colours

accompanied with warm days and nights,

and brilliant starlit skies,

there is a sadness of loss,

the loss of life in my garden.

Not for another dreary six months

will the earth warm enough,

the sun shine vibrantly enough,

to renew my life once again...

buttery leaves - haiku

buttery coloured

leaves, from frost nipped maples

float to garden paths

 

Autumns light - haiku

 

light begins and ends

sooner each day as Autumn

falls into season

Jay of blue

The family began its visit early July,

mum with four young ones

landing daily to feed and drink,

the young played as the young do.

This troop of feathered regal colours,

white, grey, royal blue, and black.

Blue Jays, loud and proud

welcomed visitors to the Pond.

Mid July one began to lag behind.

When his siblings flew off, he remained.

Spending his days and nights

sheltered under furniture in solitude.

Seed and water were offered daily,

which he shared with doves and squirrels.

His kin never returned, perhaps they knew.

Yet he shouldn’t have been left alone.

His last day was spent in a haze

surrounded by doves, giving him peace.

When he passed birds, squirrels, chipmunks

keened his loss. It was a sad day.

His grave was dug amongst yews

and was gently laid to rest covered

with blossoms of daisies and hosta’s.

All sounds and songs ceased.

Ever since his final day, the family has returned.

Slowly one by one, I wonder if they seek him,

but I still ask where were you when he needed you?

As it is with humans, you are loved or not.

Gary Glitter

 While cleaning a planter filled with Strawberry Mint this wee creature hopped onto me arm.

Sending the photo to friends as this subject of its origin was undecided.  Tree frog vs Toad.  The votes were, ummm, how shall I say all over from a peeping Tom to Nessie.  Alrightie I replied and emailed the photo to one of Canada's most respected naturalist with a help!  Michael kindly replied identifying Gary Glitter as a Grey Tree Frog.  Never having seen such colouring Gary will remain special. 

Sharing with https://ramblingwoods2.com/.  

Safe journey Hortense

 For weeks Hortense has drunk the feeder dry

until two days past, she returned no more.

Neither her feeder or begonia’s have seen her.

Is this a sign of her leaving to a southern climate

as the calendar has recorded over the years,

or has she succumbed to recent torrential rains.

I prefer thinking of her flying on southern waves,

whichever her absence, the feeder will remain

refreshed every two days, just in case.

Safe journey Hortense

my new family

 

Late night whispers from the Pond,

soft and nonsensical, like munchkins

after lights out when everyone else

is in a deep slumber, floated to my window.

Two days past while painting with plants

my eyes were drawn to an old cedar,

something round and furry was sitting

on high, 6’ high, still as an oak.

It was a wee baby chipmunk,

hanging on, obviously new to this world

hoping I wouldn’t see in the garden,

while it focused on its new life.

Next day, it appeared alone and soon

after joined with its two siblings,

TRIPLETS! I have triplets!

O the joy I felt seeing this life.

While they discovered their new home

mum appeared, ravished for seed,

aha, that’s what she has been up to

having disappeared for weeks.

After four days the family has settled,

two young ones are close while the runt

chases after mum when her cheeks are full,

they are home and I am happy.

I have become their caretaker,

a role I take great pleasure in

and am enjoying this life renewal,

serendipity at its best.

it begins ...

 

summers end - haiku

 

lanterns lit early

cobwebs woven over night

marking summers end

settled - haiku

 

settled between stone

Campanula grows,

my heart leaves it be

Circle

Orb circles on Ponds still water

there is no breeze, nor wind

to guide it, just an energy.

I ponder if this is a sign,

one of many recently encountered,

a circle of my past life reconnecting.

A month past I was contacted

for my restoration knowledge

of an historic garden I once tended.

Two weeks past attending a concert,

the Festival Director’s eyes twinkled,

an old cohort, we shared fond memories.

This day watching the circling Orb

I wonder what else from my past

will appear with reminders of happiness.

Sunbeams in the Garden

 Marjorie said “a gardener paints with plants”. How true she is.

My forte planting the garden is with light. The garden is bordered east and south with Maple, Ash, Walnut and Acacia providing shade and coolness. As these mature trees age they thin, shedding their limbs and shelter of leaves. While this loss saddens me it also allows spotlights of sunbeams to highlight areas.

Early morning captures Aquila in its ethereal bloom. A soft whiteness soon fades to the gentleness of pink casting light to the garden at sunrise.

Mid afternoon Goats-beard shimmers between Maple and Walnut, back dropped by Ruby Red Weiglea. It is a wonderful combination of Canadian colours.

Late afternoon captures the Japanese Painted Fern in its glory. O the purple and silver green are resplendent in the sunshine. Their colours always surprise me when sun highlights.

As sun sets Hosta’s of varieties I’ve long forgotten smile rimming the Pond glowing in the setting sun. Their presence high lights the border for the night wanderer. 

silence - haiku

 the Pond is silent,

there are no frog lullaby's,

my forsaken peace

Rain descends

Flash back to 1965,

rain descends at nightfall.

I am sitting in the old maple

savouring each drop.

Flash forward to 2022,

rain descends at nightfall.

I am sitting in the garden

savouring each drop.

Mum’s voice calling me in

remains in my memory. 

fragrance - haiku

 

Tisn’t only I

who inhale lilacs fragrance,

Swallowtail sips scent

For my gardener...

My life draws to an end
petals and scent once cherished
by my gardener have faded.

Soon my spine will be severed

and my fading life energy

will spiral downward

into my core, for wintering.

Next spring I will reappear

renewed and will bloom again

for my gardener...

Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal

 

It is written when a Cardinal visits you

someone is thinking of you with love and good fortune.

I am blessed having not one but two Cardinals

appear in my garden, Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal.

Long ago neighbours now returning to the hood.

They visit at sunrise, feed and fly off.

Sunset they appear for their final dining of the day.

He takes delight feeding his Mrs. with sunflower seeds.

Ahh, to be in love...

avian ribbons - haiku

 sparrows in flight swoop

gracefully through the garden

avian ribbons

encased - haiku

 

winters remnant

of an encased maple leaf

awaits springs release

haiku - march's full worm moon

 

March's Full Worm Moon

entangled amongst branches

as worms tend to do

Blizzard light

The hood is blanketed in a shawl of white,

no vehicles move, no walkers, just silence,

a welcome to the early morning rush

once the blizzard warning was issued

and people panicked seeking provisions

though it is only to last 24 hours

no one will starve, but you know tis

better to be prepared so say my Girl Guide training.

In the bird feeder there is one lone Junco,

the bully, staking his claim to all seed

fighting off his kin yet he allows doves,

chickadee’s, and finches to share the platform.

As he feeds Mr. Cardinal, brilliant in red,

tsks, tsks, tsks, from the cedar hedge,

calling for Mrs. Cardinal or telling the Junco

to cease and desist his command centre.

Ahhh, Mrs. Cardinal, a long past neighbour

and local healer who took great glee

rubbing cut potatoes on our warts,

then encouraged us to follow her to the garden

where the slices of potato were planted

exclaiming “your warts now belong to the soil”,

we believed when they disappeared from hands.

I’m sure she laughed at our innocence.

Twilight has now covered the landscape

creating a warm glow from windows

lit with candles, lamps and lanterns

lighting the street, providing guidance

to those who scoff at the elements

and continue their journey plodding along

on ice and snow covered walkways,

enjoying the serenity of freshness.

housekeeping - haiku

green glass collection

sunshine slices through the dusk

reminds one to dust

vole vs mouse - haiku

 

a vole in a hole

outside, is far better than

a mouse in the house 

gaggle - haibun

 north wind blows eastward

heads bent, pole walkers chatter

gaggle of snow geese

This entered me mind while watching a group of pole walkers trudging along in the white shite storm.  About 20, dare I write women, were bundled in Sorels, snow pants, parkas, scarves, toques and thermal gloves battling the elements.  As I watched this chilled parade, warm and toasty from my home, I wondered what they were talking about. I’m sure the conversation wasn’t deep due to the elements. “what the hell Prudence, you said the temperature was balmy!”, and “we’re near my home, anyone for a wee nip of rum?” There is no doubt in my mind it continued along the same vein until they were safe in their own warm and toasty homes.

Well done ladies. You have my admiration.

Ode to Olympia

23 years

two floors, three offices

my faithful companion

has followed me

despite offers of replacement

Olympia remained

by my side

tickled by fingers

five days a week

answers were the same

except when decimal button

was pushed out of sinc,

what’s a .0006 anyways

Olympia remains

by my side

in my own environment

crunch

full wolf moon waning

leaves brilliant clear skies

while the sharpness of footsteps,

the crunch of Sorels

connecting with frozen earth,

gifts us with a perfect winter day

the Runner

Freezing drizzle falls without warning.

Apparently there is a difference between

freezing drizzle and freezing rain;

one is slick and slippery as a frozen pond;

and the other a mix of snow and ice

creating a wee bit of crust boots can grab onto.

I’ve given up understanding the new descriptions.

What falls, falls and we deal with it.

I digress...

Returning from errands as the freezing drizzle fell

this lone figure appeared on the street.

Dressed in fluorescent yellow he plodded along.

I recognized him, a resident marathoner

who has returned to running at night,

no matter the weather. Just him in his element.

I stood watching as he ran into the park,

head erect, not as agile as he once was

but he ran in the drizzle, perhaps thinking of his loss,

running for her, his beloved of 55 years, now passed.

Is he hearing her voice, sensing her presence,

as he runs in darkness, the falling ice dulls his pain.

for Phill

 A chilly day at least for me in this northern climate,

chilly being -25C as the sun rises, bahhh, it is nothing.

One just needs to bundle up wearing woollen socks in Sorels,

two scarves, hooded parka so heavy it feels like an 80 lb weight on the body,

and mitts, O those mitts, not gloves as fingers are separated from warmth

but true double knitted mitts lined in alpaca wool to keep fingers toasty.

Just another winter day in Canada ...

night creatures - haiku

 

 after the snowfall

soft sounds became clearer

night creatures surfaced