Thursday, August 7, 2014

some ripen, some die on the vine

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But all are tasty. Elderberries turn purple black as they ripen, but many of ours won’t get a chance to.

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...Because as fast as they are made, they are being eaten – by birds and squirrels alike. This must be driving evolution, explaining why there are so.freaking.many berries on an elderberry tree, of which we have many many many, lucky us. The former owners of this house were big into Future Farmers and I can only speculate that it drove their landscaping choices.

Which I delight in, but neglect, being clueless.

We have a tangle of iris, hosta, columbine, roses, hydrangea, and other wonders, which no doubt would benefit from...deadheading? pruning? dividing? Am I supposed to be doing something with everybody? I am lucky to catch sight of a butterfly over in the hostas, fifteen feet away.

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I am even luckier to get a (crappy) shot of a hummingbird. Usually I spy on them at the feeder, from the sink.

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Does anyone know anything about pruning roses? I sure don’t. All of the sudden, we have a second blooming.

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Elsewhere, there’s a pile of enchanter’s nightshade. Do people plant this, down here? Or did it wander in on the wind, or on the back of a cat?

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I realized we have a gigantic jack-in-the-pulpit right in the front of the house. Which means I can FINALLY track the point at which these babies will turn scarlet.

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These are so indecent.

That which is not ripening or withering is decomposing under the back deck, or so the wafting breeze tells me. I believe it may be a squirrel Charlie brought into the house the other day. After dumping the cat unceremoniously down the basement stairs and moving v-e-r-r-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y, I was able to persuade Squirrel to defenestrate. But the trauma may have overcome him. Or her. Should I feel flattered that our under-deck feels like a comfortable place to curl up and die? Yes. That’s the attitude I’m going with.