Wildflowers and Birds

The woods are a riot of wildflowers, and we have had quite a wildlife show this past two days. Here are the wild geraniums, also known as cranesbill. All twelve acres are carpeted with them:

The lilies of the valley are just opening:

Last night a doe and two newborn fawns crossed the driveway into the woods. They were so spindly, they can't be more than a day old. I couldn't get a photo, alas. But we also had technicolor at the bird feeders. Here's the female oriole eating an orange.

See the indigo bunting on the ground under the feeder pole?
We also had hummingbirds, cardinals and purple finches, rose-breasted grosbeaks, goldfinches, downy and red-bellied woodpeckers, nuthatches, chickadees -- it was busy out there!

And here are the bluebells in my friend Fran's woods (hers are later than mine).
It has been a glorious spring. Today summer has arrived with all its heat and stickiness. Yuck.

Gratitudes:

wildflowers and wildlife

time to enjoy them

dinner tonight with old friends

Woods Full of Wildflowers

The wildflowers in our woods are grateful for this long, cool spring. We have never had so many trillium:

I realized recently that I never posted a photo of The Quilt That Won't Show Cat Hair (formerly known as The Quilt From Hell). Here it is in use now:

Happy Spring!

Gratitudes:

+ MRI results now known and surgery scheduled -

+ SO there's light at the end of the tunnel

+ going to see Word With a Bird at Audubon with Olivia June 7

Signs of Spring

My grandmother, who could quote reams of poetry by heart, always quoted Swinburne at this time of year: "The hounds of spring are on winter's traces."

Spring has been very slow coming this year, and April more like March. But in spite of continuing grey, rainy days, spring is winning. Here are some ferns poking up through the mulch:

And shy bleeding heart buds hiding their heads under the leaves:

The dear little wood violets:
And my mysterious anemone -- given to me many years ago by a friend to transplant to our woods, it disappeared after the first year, only to pop up this year:
I wonder about these little mysteries. One year a showy double white columbine came up near the path, literally from nowhere. We've never seen it again. And our patch of Dutchman's breeches, once as big across as a round dining table, has gradually shrunk to almost nothing. I don't know enough botany to know if this is natural or if we are losing our wildflowers to doubtful progress.

Wednesday I go to The Clearing in Door County for nine uninterrupted days of quilting (uninterrupted if you don't count taking the time for fabulous meals and even better fellowship). If not my favorite place in the world, it's definitely in the running. (There's a Smilebox slideshow in an earlier post of the magic of the place in January.) I'm going to finish all the pieced blocks for the Pieces of Time sampler quilt class I foolishly started in February of 2008; at least they're all cut. And I hope to get sashing around the blocks of a whimsical 4-Patch Posy I started in October.

Finally, if I finish all that, I'll make the 140 blocks for my contribution to the collaborative quilts (Freddie Moran and Gwen Marston) projects we started a year ago. In January 2008, thirteen of us made 130 blocks, divided them into packages of ten for one another. But most of us decided we need a lot more blocks. Another quilter has joined the project, hence the 140 blocks this year. Each of us makes a different block from brights and black & whites. If you haven't seen Freddie and Gwen's book "Collaborative Quilts" it's a treat. Just seeing Freddie's house is a treat. And I covet Gwen's fire engine red Featherweight.

Gratitudes:

MRI for shoulder over

going to The Clearing!

found my red raincoat

Homely Things

You know about 'comfort food'? This is my 'comfort reading.' Written by an Englishwoman about fifty years ago, these books all take place in a little village called Fairacre. Nothing ever happens in them, but it doesn't happen so charmingly! It was a gentler time and place, or maybe that's just a myth, but I'd like to think it was so. I grew up in a small town, so I know a bit about what it's like to live where everyone knows everything about everyone else. Not always comfortable. But people knew when you needed help, and usually lent a hand.

Things are rising out of the ashes: Bluebells with buds!

Crocus!
Wildflowers I've never been able to identify! They look white here, but the petals have fine pale blue stripes.

I had some pretty Christmas fat quarters bought on sale, the right size for place mats, and decided to make them up this afternoon. You know how it is -- you don't feel like making Christmas stuff in the springtime, but then they go into the stash and you forget about them until next Christmas -- when you're too busy to make them. And so it goes. Not this time! I'll handsew the bindings on tonight.

Gratitudes:

flowers rising out of the ashes

a sunny day

a productive day