A Few Things

This morning, I was sitting at the computer with my first cuppa Joe, trying to get my eyes open and make some sense of the world around me, when I heard this sound through the open window. It was like someone had bit into the world's largest stalk of celery. I looked outside and saw a rather large squirrel standing atop one of the older, drooping sunflowers, gnawing through the stalk and harvesting the entire seedhead. Pretty impressive.

What was less impressive is that my camera had just enough to battery to turn on and tell me I didn't have enough power...and by the time I'd recharged fifteen minutes later, the squirrel had fled with the object of his affection.

However, a few minutes later one of our neigh bor hood gold finches showed up to do a little harvesting and munching of his own. The lesser sunflowers are certainly providing a great breakfast buffet to this little guy and his family.

Meanwhile, you might recall me recently mentioning the canna lily and pondering what color it's flowers might be. Red is, I believe, the standard shade for these guys, though I've also seen some nice yellow ones.

But I'm not sure I was expecting such a lovely shade of orange. What a treat!

Now, my friends, I must offer in advance an apology. I'm about to include something a little less pleasant than I often like to...in fact, you may find it downright upsetting. If you don't, I'm inclined to actually be a little concerned that we're friends. But I've learned something about Sarah Palin, the Republican nom for VP who's been ALL over the news this week...and it's too important, too dastardly, for me not to make sure you know.



Again, I'm sorry. I've been hearing about these aerial hunts for a while now, but I never imagined, innocent idiot that I am, that we could be faced with the architect of such barbarism as a possibility to lead our country. As if we weren't in enough trouble already.

Now, take a deep breath, and look at these pretty marguerite daisies I found in a planter outside my friend Jane's office in Chatham.

You may recall my mentioning Jane back on June 12th, when I was celebrating Best Day Ever and treated myself to a massage (it was complimentary, actually) at Jane's new practice, Cloud Nine Bodywork. Hoping to mitigate some of the stress knots that I'd been accumulating in my back the past week, I called Jane and got myself an appointment for today, my day off.

To sweeten the experience, when I arrived, Jane offered me a nice discount if I'd let her practice her new hot stones technique on me. So, a few dollars less and a little minor scarring later (ha ha, only kidding, Jane dear...it was absolutely lovely!), the Midnight Gardener greeted the afternoon a soothed man.

After collecting my paycheck from work and doing some banking, I got myself a nice deli sandwich and headed for the beach. I'd thought to spend my lunchtime in the company of the Atlantic proper, but the beach parking lot at Nauset Light Beach was absolutely packed, and so I opted for my favorite bench at First Encounter Beach, on the bayside.


It didn't take my liverwurst sandwich and I any time at all to be targeted by an assortment of gulls, those seabirds known for having invented the expression, "You gonna finish that?"

They were pretty entertaining, though. I was more inclined to slip a few scraps of bread crust to the little guy, but he was deferring to the big one, who wasted no time in muscling the smaller one out of the way to grab what bits I was willing to share.

The tide was nearly all the way in and since it was a windy sort of an afternoon, there was a bit more splashiness to the bayside surf than we normally see there.

The wind also supported that interesting thing you sometimes see shorebirds doing, where they seem to pause in the air floating on the wind currents. As Douglas Adams once wrote, hanging in the air exactly the same way that bricks don't.

It's a neat trick, that. Unless, of course, they are hovering right over one and one's sandwich. I didn't dally with the sandwich, just to be on the safe side. I've never aspired to being Tippy Hedrin.

It was a beautiful day, for sure. Sunny and bright and clear, a touch of humidity sneaking in at us today, probably a prelude to the arrival of Hurricane Hanna and/or her remains on the weekend. The sun was pretty strong, so I didn't stay for too long, as I had other fish to fry and no sunscreen handy.



Next stop was my new digs, where I wanted to confirm my continuing interest in the place. I was greeted in the driveway by this wonderful hedge of roses.

Just a few weeks back it sported but a single blossom, but now, it's covered with them again. Oh, and the scent from these was quite delightful...just what I might have wished for!!

It was nice to get another look at the place today and start to get a sense of the layout of it all. I measured the ceilings for consideration of moving some bookshelves, and then talked paint colors and gardening opportunities with my friend L, who will also be my landlord.

On the latter front, I was happy to hear that there's plenty of room to play...and a pretty open form to it all. Apparently one of the neighbors also gardens, and has been occasionally discovered planting her divisions in the yard here. Colonizing, I suppose. Sounds like a fun place to bring some plants.

It sounds like this will be a great place for me and the cat, very comfortable and spacious, with lots of light and character. Here's a look at the place--the second story will be the gardener's new nest. To the left is one of several large lilac bushes all around the house and property.

It's also very nicely located for not only groceries and possibly walking to work, but it's also very near the bike trail and just down the road from Rock Harbor...and the nearby marshes I enjoy so.

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.

By the Sea

I was scoping out another part of Harwich for a rental Mom and Dad are considering for their upcoming Cape Escape, and had the chance to stop by the beach at the end of the road.

It's just a little neighborhood beach, room for just a few cars to park. Most beach-goers probably stay in the houses nearby...coming down to the shore in the morning and watching the summer sun cross the sky...well, when the tide is right, anyway.

It was a beautiful day to stop and smell the salt air. The beach, though, is rather small, at least at high tide, as this was becoming...even the steps down from the parking lot were occasionally awash.

Still, it was nice to be the sun and a well-timed couple of steps got me off the stairs and onto the beach and...well, why don't I just let the photos tell what little tale there is?

Mighty Atlantic

On the way home from Provincetown, I detoured to Newcomb Hollow Beach in Wellfleet. It was nearly high tide, and with the storms of last night moving off-shore, the surf was sort of impressive. Plus, I just love the crashing sound of the pounding waves and it was an opportunity for a better look at some of those clouds...and just a hint of blue sky!

Coast Guard Beach

Rosehips at Coast Guard Beach 

With three named storms (Maria, Nate and Ophelia) currently swirling in the Atlantic, there is a high surf advisory in effect for our area, and I couldn't resist having a look for myself on the way home this evening.
 

5:20 p.m. Coast Guard Beach, Eastham MA.
 

A Little Detour

First Encounter Beach, 6 p.m.  

Bay like bathwater. 

Cape Cod Bay, 7 p.m. Temperature of 73 F. Breeze off the water, so only one greenhead fly, who didn't really seem into his job.