At Summer's End, A Friend

Look at this lovely morning glory Patience has climbing a string down in the backyard. I just love the delicate purple markings.

Yes, it's been a few days since I've blogged last, and surely you are all wondering just what the Gardener's been up to, how the Nest is coming along and was anything of note done to celebrate the final days of Summer 2008.


Actually, I had just planned on a quiet weekend of painting and time in nature, but it turned out to be a much more interesting and exciting weekend than that, as Badum and I ended up hosting our first weekend guest!

In commiserating with a fellow blogger about our recent respective malaises (is that the plural?), I had touted the creative process as a helpful means to distraction...and painting as the sort of process you could do while spending time sorting through your thoughts...and I extended a sort of Tom Sawyer-like invitation to come help paint the apartment this weekend.

But I must admit, it was still a delightful surprise when Patrick called to say he was interested in coming to help paint if I'd been quite serious (perhaps he's realizing that I am rarely all-the-way serious about many things...there's little fun in seriousness, after all) about the invite. Which is how we ended up finally meeting at the bus station in Hyannis late Friday night!

The whole blogging experience (or at least ours) has put us in touch with such a great circle of people, where at least the frameworks for real friendships have been somewhat intensively forged online, and of course, that whole cyber world creates this sense of "imaginary" friends, and you never truly know how you'll respond to someone when you meet them for real.

I'm happy to say Patrick and I seemed to step across the gap between worlds with a hug and a smile...and we quickly moved on to proving that old John Lennon saw about how what people really want to do is sit in rooms and talk...although we proved they also want to do it (the talking, People; heads out of the gutter, please...you cheapen us all with your tawdry little imaginings...) in cars, during inauspicious late-night dinners in Wendy's parking lots...and while walking through marshes...or standing in the cool waters of Cape Cod Bay...or sitting in the sun on the deck with coffee and Cheerios...and yes, even while painting...we did get around to a little bit of that, too.

But we did speak of each one of you. Some more than others, naturally, and almost entirely good things. But I wouldn't be surprised to hear that any one of you spent at least some little piece of the weekend going, "hey, what's that I feel in the Universe...something's going on...why are my ears ringing...?" Yah, that was us. We talked about the Secret Wisdom of Bachelor's Buttons, too.

Look at the color of the dining room: it's called Amsonia Peach, which I chose as my orange component of the rainbow painting scheme for the Nest. It's amazing in the way it changes so totally as the light does. One moment, it's pumpkin pie orange, another moment cinnamon brown or here, with a blush of gold and pink, just like the skin of a peach.


The light changes a lot in this room during the course of a day, so it should be fun to watch as this color transforms right along with it. And also, some of the late day light comes in bounced off the now-pink, but soon to be brick red walls of the kitchen...so it will be interesting to see just how that changes things, too.

It really was a fun weekend. It was nice to have a kindred spirit to talk with about so many things on each of our minds. While neither of us saw this as one of those transformative, "How Someone Got Their Groove Back" weekends, in the process we may have at least realized that we each should actually have grooves, anyway...being fabulous gay guys and all.

And hosting a guest on Cape Cod always carries the additional pleasure of making one slow down and appreciate the incredible beauty around us.


With the recent frenzy of life, I've done little more than drive to local beach parking lots lately, to hurry up and soak in the sunset and snap a few photos before dashing home to rearrange some furniture or paint something.

What a joy it was to slow down and walk through the marsh with someone, laughing out loud (but not LOLing, for gosh sakes...) and talking about it or just soaking it in...and then actually walking out into the bay as the tide began to lap in around us, blue herons and hundreds of other birds flying about overhead, foraging in the shallow waters for their dinner as we snapped photos.

I should say we weren't totally chatterboxes. An evening like this would be pointless if you didn't know when to be silent and let the amazing world be around you.

The late season songs of the crickets sounding a little sad, but sweetly so, from the marsh grass. complemented by the plaintive and ungraceful blat of the great blue heron as it soars across the bay waters, the honk of a fast-moving duck overhead, the lapping of the water around our ankles. The mystery of what the small unseen creatures were who occasionally dimpled the calm surface of the water from below and the way the color of the sky changes so gracefully as the sunlight vanishes and the stars appear overhead....it was all quite soothing and wonderful.

It was good to have the birds' foraging as a reminder for us, as we are neither of us apparently clock-watchers, especially not with all the nature and talking and quiet to enjoy...but it wasn't too long after that we discovered that the Gardener's Nest is indeed within delivery range for a Papa Gino's pizza.

Not watching the clock while chatting is also how we missed the earlier opportunity to get Patrick on a bus back to NY Sunday...and it was as we dashed for the car and the bus station a little while later that we remembered we'd not done a proper snapshot to prove we'd met...and so here's that.

If you get the opportunity to meet Patrick, I highly recommend it. He's fun and smart and thoughtful and all that you imagine he might be...and a little more, too. P, thanks for your company this weekend, it was really great fun. I hope we'll do it again sometime soon (there's more painting to do, after all).

Now on a technical note, I'm excited about having met Patrick for another reason: as a blogger, I can now be validated, at least to a small circle of other bloggers Patrick has met (and more distantly, through all the bloggers they have met), and am proven to be a real person more or less as represented in Blogland (perhaps a touch more neurotic...).

Pinnochio voice: So, look at me, everybody, I'm a real boy!


I stopped into work on the way home from the bus station, which is how I learned that Danny and Sara were still in town at the end of their week's vacation and they invited me to join them for the summer's last sunset...which you can see above.

Though I expressed to Dan the interest his internet fan base had in a further photo shoot in the outdoor shower, I'm afraid we never got around to that this time. ; )

We were really too busy just chilling out as the last gorgeous moments of summer slid down behind the horizon.

And it was really no surprise to me at all that the sun turned a lovely shade of violet as it vanished.

Morning Discoveries

I'm no morning glory. It takes only the first glimmer of morning sun on the horizon to get them to unfurl their petals and turn to golden glow in the east. For me, it really takes at least one cup of coffee...and this morning, it wasn't really anywhere near dawn, thanks to the cat curled comfortably on my feet and the cool morning air coming in the bedroom window.

After a few slugs of coffee and a one-eyed squint at the online weather forecast to see if there was any chance of rain(none, a cloudy morning followed by sunshine), I stumbled out into the yard, cup in hand, to get the soaker hose connected and turned on.

That done, I wandered out around the fence in search of the morning's new offerings.

There were more of those blue morning glories quietly blossomed in the lush leaves of the vines on the first post. I was admiring those when I heard something down by my feet.

Mine was sort of a delayed reaction and I suppose my sleepiness may have contributed to his mediocre reaction. Generally, the bunnies are just wary enough to not let you get all that close. This little guy, however, is apparently too young to know that yet.

I'd spotted him last evening, as Em and I were finishing our walk. She, as usual, was oblivious, despite my circling her around for another look at him, over the fence in Sophie's yard across the street. The Little One didn't move, nor did he seem particularly frozen with fear.

This morning, I think I nearly stepped on him and that only caused him to hop away a foot or so, before finding a fresh patch of plantain and clover to nibble on. He's the only one of a new generation I've seen so far.

He's got a lot to look out for in this little world of his. I've heard that feral cats in the neighborhood killed an entire litter of rabbit kits earlier this spring and the hawk was big news amongst the birds just a few nights ago. Practical Gardener wants to make a little noise, scare him off, to make him a little more wary of people. They aren't all like me, after all, and he ought to know the difference.



But Practical Gardener comes into conflict with Poet Gardener, who's actually already wondering about what his little life entails. Is he part of a larger family group? Is he off on his own, already, looking for a territory to claim, and where will he meet a doe? And of course, he's already wondering if "Clover" or "Hazel" would be a good name for this little guy.

Naming wild creatures is always a bad idea, says Practical Gardener. It would be hard enough to find his little carcass without it having a name. But Poet Gardener isn't even listening anymore. He thinks this bunny looks more like a "Henry" somehow.


As you can see, those two lilies which began blooming yesterday really are nestled pretty deeply in clouds of allyssum, which are concealing even more fully a drift of yellow and orange marigolds in the distance. Also, anyone who worries about not having time for weeding may embiggen this to take note of the witch grass and wild oxalis I'm turning a blind eye toward in this part of the garden.

Meanwhile, the tiny thistle seedling I dug out of the edge of the CSX Railroad right-of -way in Austerlitz NY a few years back has become a rather large and happy plant in this new location.

It straddles the line between good dirt and the clay soil in that last section of the garden bed, where I've planted more wild things.

Recently, it's branches had grown so large that they were laying down across other things in the garden, like the purple allyssum at the feet of red rose Mister Lincoln (seen here in the lower left)and falling out the front of the garden onto the grass.

Last evening, I wove a pair of bamboo stakes around the sturdy stems of the thistle, raising them back up in the air again, to give the understory plants a chance to thrive. I'm kind of excited by how hard to spot the stakes are now, and just look at the shape of that "little" thistle plant now. Just wait 'til it starts blooming.

I've noticed that these yellow rudbeckia flowers are starting to develop a little of that darker color at the insides of their petals. I wonder if this coloration is a product of soil nutrients, as the color of hydrangeas is often dependent on the amount of aluminum in the ground. Still, they have a long way to go to catch up with the orange and brown flower on the far side of the plant.

Speaking of hydran geas, the one under my bedroom window turns out to be one of those lace-cap varieties. As you can see, it's developing a lovely shade of blue.

I believe there is another hydrangea plant nearby, though to be honest all the plants against the front of the house are seriously bound up with bindweed, which I will have to address shortly.

That other hydrangea is a bit crowded between the azalea and evergreen on either side of it, and really deserves to be dug up and given some space to do its thing unfettered somewhere with a little elbow room.




Hanging from the eves of the porch is the little fuschia plant I bought last week. The variety is called Winston Churchill.


No cigars or speeches from this pretty little plant, though. Interestingly (considering its namesake), its white skirts change to purple as the blossom ages (perhaps J. Edgar Hoover might've been more appropriate), creating some nice variety on just one small plant.





There's a little traffic down at the bottom of this sky shot. Not at all the focus here, as it was moving briskly and no troubles to speak of. No, it was the clouds that caught my eye here, as I headed off to work this morning.

There was plenty to hold my attention in the office this afternoon, with a few new events popping unexpectedly onto the horizon, while details for other upcoming parties began to fall into place.

At day's end, though, I was happy to detour down to the beach parking lot for a look at how some people were whiling away their afternoons. Really, I just wanted to see the sunshine on the water for a few minutes before turning to head home.

Cinco

An old friend surprised me this spring. This is ajuga, which I am happy to say hitched a ride with this clump of shasta daisies. Also known as carpet bugle, this plants diminutive flower spires stand three or four inches tall. And just look at the deep blue of those flowers!

I'm pleased to see it's happy in this location, which I can tell by the way it has already put a finger or two of a runner out into the garden bed. Ajuga's a nice ground cover that plays fairly well with others. I like the idea of a little colony of them filling in some of the space between other plants, particularly around the various bulbs I've already planted.

Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, I also spotted one of the neighborhood cats perched on the roof of the neighboring house. I imagine it must've been nice and warm up there as the sun worked its way through some clouds lingering from the weekend.


This single cream- colored daffodil has also appeared alongside the house by the old hyacinths and the money plant.

It was nodding on the breeze quite a bit this morning, which I offer by way of explanation that the photo isn't more sharply focussed.

Right nearby, the bleeding heart has reached a height of about two feet or so, and lots of sprays of those special blossoms have sprung out on all sides now.


Outside the restaurant, the single pink tulip I photographed last week has a number of companions now, who were all on their best show this afternoon as the bright sunshine returned.



By this point in the afternoon (around 4 pm), our temperatures had climbed back up into the high 50s...with a forecast/promise of cracking into the 60s tomorrow.


Across the path, a quartet of red tulips added to the show.


I was at work a bit later than I'd anticipated, but I still got out in time to catch this terrific sunset at Skaket Beach, before making my way home for the evening stroll around the Hood with My Girl.

By the way, I did get to the Brewster in Bloom parade on Sunday, and it was awfully fun, if you are a fan of parades(which I am). I'm working on a presentation of some of that for you all, but it's taking a little longer than anticipated. Soon...

Sunny Spring Saturday

Saturday brought some heartening signs of the Spring. I just love the way robins behave...they way they stick their heads up in the air, standing still and listening, and then lowering their heads to dart forward, running across the grass.

I watched this robin this morning doing just that in the front yard, and then, when he got to the edge of the garden, he just stopped and sort of sat there. No doubt, he was soaking up the sun's warmth, but I also believe the robins had fled for southern climes when I created the garden here last fall...so he might've been taking stock of the changed landscape, too.

I suppose there's a slight chance that he was admiring all the little clusters of crocus foliage which are coming up here and there at the front of the beds. I think we'll see our first blossoms in the coming week!

Here's a hyacinth, just emerged from the warming soil. Although it was still a bit breezy today, the sun was nice and warm in sheltered spots and generally, it was a great day to be outside.

As it turned out, my schedule for the day allowed me to take a few breaks here and there to accomplish assorted non-work stuff. Around noontime I found myself in Eastham to do some banking.

I couldn't resist a drive-by the old place, and was happy to see that all the recent rain have done wonders to restore the pond to its former levels. I'm sure our old duck pals are quite pleased. I wonder if the buffleheads showed up again this spring.

I saw this swan as I drove by the Herring Pond and stopped to take his picture, and also to peek into the herring run to see what sort of activity there might be. Though the herring haven't yet made their appearance, there's an abundance of small fry darting through the shallow waters...and sometimes getting sucked over the little waterfalls made by the old wooden ladders.

Happily, my late afternoon appoint ments wrapped up in time to visit Skaket Beach for the sunset, before dashing about for a few Easter-related items.

This evening I boiled and dyed a couple dozen eggs, which I decorated with the names of everyone who'll be working serving and waiting for the madness which is Easter Brunch Buffet tomorrow. I hid them all over the restaurant, which will hopefully make working on the holiday a little more fun. The eggs came out looking pretty great, and I was sorry to realize later that I'd forgotten to take some pictures of them.

Snow Crocuses!

Hey, look everyone!! Snow crocuses!!

Recently, one of my Midnight Garden tipsters [what, you thought only news blogs had tipsters?!] let me know she'd seen some nice yellow crocuses in bloom in front of the Dojo where she trains in Orleans.

So, on a break this afternoon I took a little ride, and although I had to look pretty closely since the overcast day was keeping them closed up tight, I eventually found them and caught these pics to share with all of you--especially those of you in the Great White North, who won't see such delight in your own neighborhoods for possibly months yet!

(Thanks for the head's up, Leslie...)


Temper atures were in the low forties today, as we creep towards the turn of the seasons, but there were ominous clouds on the horizon at Skaket Beach.

In fact, when my day ended around 10:00 p.m., snow showers made the ride home from work a little more interesting. Not much, but a little.

23 Days til Spring!

As Spring slowly creeps in our general direction, one of the few ways you can tell is that the sun sets just a smidge later each day, making it a little easier to catch a sunset at the beach.

Here's the one I enjoyed this evening at Skaket Beach. It's been so cold lately, that I set this as desktop wallpaper on the computer, and spent a little time pretending to bask in its warmth, longing for summer.

Sunset on Cape Cod Bay, Skaket Beach, Orleans, MA, around 5:11 p.m.