Yarrow, mullein, bergamot, bird's-foot trefoil, and daisies collect along the road right here in our little village. There's a patch of old forgotten black top in the midst of this wild flower patch. Forty years ago the old hotel was razed and the woods and flowers are taking over.
We took our walk during the golden hour last evening. The woods are deep and open, a heavy canopy with mature trees allowing us to see in. The tall straight red-pine trunks stand out, almost pink, in this light. We gaze into the depths and I kind of wish we could see that sow bear with her four cubs that live here this season. But she's not around apparently. She would rather lead her babies past dumpsters and decks on her own eating and hunting schedule.
Sure enough, the grandchildren just came in to say that the dumpster is tipped over, again. We were on the sow's route for feeding babies last night. I will dump ammonia into the top of the trash to deter her.
Campanula has taken to growing all along the back of the stone house. Apparently it grows in poor soil just fine. And it's good that my threats to mow it down didn't happen.
We definitely need the wild flowers along the road and these invading blue bell flowers this year. These help to sooth our frustrated garden intentions. Now I'm not going to complain here. But I will just say that watching the short little corn plants tasseling isn't cute or funny. Will there be ducky, miniscule ears, too?
I was surprised to find green beans on the tiny bushes that have managed to survive the rain and my poor ministrations. And the snap peas. I actually gathered a basket full of vegetables and tea leaves. So we had fresh green beans for supper and hopefully five meals for the freezer. Having a thankful heart is more important than a freezer full of garden produce.
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