Hellebore
Sunny, warm, little wind. Until late afternoon, when an easterly breeze brought us hints of Lake Michigan, and the temperature dropped. Alpine current, honeysuckle, serviceberry are leafing out. Also lilac and apple. And the magnolias are breaking into bloom.
Flu, or something much like it. Shame to miss the lovely spring day outside. Pax pretty bored.
But here is a shot of ice remaining on Georgian Bay. The North Channel is still locked solid.
Rain over night. Pax didn't feel like much of a walk, so a bike ride seemed the thing for me, though it turned out to be hazardous on account of countless nightcrawlers spread across the roads and walks. Yet on an afternoon walk with Pax nary a one could be found. There were many robins, and they seemed slow to take off, or perhaps the worms wised up and moved out of high traffic areas.
Also clouds of river bugs hanging over bridges, and red-winged blackbirds on every other tree, bush, and cattail anywhere near water, loudly proclaiming their territory.
Above a few square feet of worm castings. It's a fact that objects firmly planted tend to sink into the surrounding soil as the worm castings pile up.
Busy times at Riverknoll. Tony and Abby building a chicken coop addition. Mimi taking care of house and food, as well as playing with kids. Me installing phase one of the new compost bins. Bri and I building a second deck so that Wombat can ride on the old trailer over Solstice. All intermixed, of course, with lots of swinging, tree climbing, electric jeep driving, and a bike ride to the park. Followed by shish kebob, chef Brian at the grill. Rainbow on the way home.
...you want to avoid on a beautiful Saturday in mid-April. However, we had tickets, as part of the season package, and so, the grubby jeans and ragged t-shirt had to be changed. Church Basement Ladies, the last episode—unless they do more. Actually quite good, quite professional. Excellent audio, not way too loud as most amateur productions tend to be. The auditorium was packed, but almost exclusively with people of advanced age (even older than me). And they were enthusiastic. Any line or gag that I found mildly amusing met with uproarious laughter.
It was a good show, and I should't put it down, but I did leave at intermission, to walk home, take Pax for a bike run, and then get to work on some carpentry projects. At times like this it becomes increasingly clear that the defect in my character is only getting worse.
Arriving early for the Church Basement.
Here, the burned prairie is coming back to life—a green fuzz spreading across the land.
And here be a small sample of all the maple bud scales that have coated the neighborhood.
Magnificent magnolia, getting ready.
Siberian squill
A quintessential, archetypical, spring day—bright morning followed by rain squalls, followed by clearing.
And here is an important petition regarding Lake Wisconsin: http://visitlakewisconsin.com
Wave after wave of rain and storms, providing enough moisture to cause flooding. The past five weeks have been dry in this part of the universe, but the last two days have made up for it. And now, Spring is in full swing—everything greening and growing.
I spent an hour, while supper's ingredients were slowly getting themselves ready on the stove, sitting out on the front entry porch watching the latest storm roll in (with poor Pax, hiding in the basement). This storm turned out to be less than dramatic, but it did remind me of the times when I, along with various components of the family, would sit out in the Batavia-house garage watching storms unleash their fury on northern Illinois. And that reminded me of Crystal Lake, where, when I was a lad, my dad and I would hurry down to the pier to watch an ominous squall line roll in from the west.
There was a guy who liked weather (land even ended up being a meteorologist in WWII).
Also tried a little tilling, but the soil was too wet and sticky.
Hard planting requires pizza as a reward.
And then entertainment—lots of dancing, and piano playing.
"I'll tell ya where. Some place warm. A place where the beer flows like wine and beautiful women instinctively flock like salmon to capastrano! I'm talking about a place called ASS-PEN!"
Hundreds of swallows today bobbing and weaving along Whitewater creek, where apparently there has been an early hatch of flying protein. Whatever the swallows were going after were too small for me to see, much less photograph.
Chilly, gray day, with strong east wind, boding no good.
But, Ab summed it up so well in her blog I am just going to refer anyone interested to hers: http://chickenschangeeverything.com/2015/04/07/a-sunny-soil-block-kind-of-day/