Photos of Spring and a Publication Note

Flowers April 6

The daffodils, all three of them, bloomed this week. As did the pear tree.

Grackle April 6

While it has plenty of bird visitors, the pear tree hasn’t seen its usual complement of pollinators.

Robin April 6

The pear blooms usually draw bees and beetles by the hundreds, but many of the pollinators seem to be sleeping in this year. Yellow-rumped warblers are getting most of the nectar.

Warbler April 6

The pear tree’s pollinators may be sleeping in, but the carpenter bees are awake and active. Territorial males have claimed pockets of airspace near the house, fence, and deck. Their physiology must be wondrously efficient, because they patrol and defend their claims with seemingly endless vigor, never pausing to eat. They aren’t interested in nectar. They’re waiting for females to arrive.

Carpenter Bees April 6

My favorite news from the yard this week comes from the milkweed. It survived our long, cold winter, which means we might have more monarchs this year!

Milkweed April 6

My favorite other news involves a publication note. My short story “Numbers” is now posted at The Blue Hour Magazine. This is my first fiction publication!

“Numbers” is the first short story I ever attempted. For nearly ten years I returned to it periodically, each time applying what I had learned since its last revision. Finally, in 2013, the story seemed to defy further revision. By then the opening had been entirely restructured and the word count cut by more than half. That year “Numbers” won Honorable Mention in the Frank Lawlor Memorial Fiction Prize at the Hampton Roads Writers’ Conference.

I let “Numbers” drift to the bottom of my to-do pile after its award, but in January of this year I decided to give the story one final edit and begin submitting it for publication. Then I selected a new practice manuscript from the archive, because I am not through learning. My journey with “Numbers” has reached a happy and satisfying conclusion, but my journey with writing will never end.

Chickadees and Writing Events

Chickadee March 26

Thursday a lone chickadee decided to do a little spring cleaning in one of the wren houses.

Chickadee March 26

Thick clouds were moving in, ahead of a line of heavy rain, and the little bird seemed aware that there wasn’t much time for nest clearing.

Chickadee March 26

It made trip after trip into the house, sometimes tossing wood shavings straight out through the door, sometimes carrying them several feet away and scattering them in the honeysuckle.

Chickadee March 26

Chickadee March 26

When the rain arrived, the chickadee kept working a while longer, then it gave up and moved into the cover of the wax myrtles.

As Thursday’s rain cycled into a dreary, cold Friday, I kept watching for the chickadee to return. But there has been no sign of further interest in the nest box.

I suspect the little bird’s interest was never more than a passing fancy, mostly because it was working alone. In the past, the yard’s chickadee nests have been built by pairs of birds working together. (On the other hand, there haven’t been many chickadee nests in the yard, and all of them have failed. Maybe I shouldn’t use those nests for comparison?)

Chickadee March 26

On Saturday I left the yard’s mysteries to take care of themselves while I attended Coastal Crime Fest 2015. This single-day writing conference was sponsored by Mystery by the Sea, The Southeastern Virginia Chapter of Sisters in Crime. The day’s sessions included mystery authors talking about writing and publishing, tales of real-world experience from a retired FBI agent, and a presentation about situational awareness from a pair of self-defense instructors. I’m already looking forward to next year’s conference.

What’s more, Saturday’s conference was not my first writing event this month. Last weekend I attended one of the Hampton Roads Writers’ Traveling Pen Series, a morning-long workshop about paranormal and fantasy writing. The workshop included several very helpful writing exercises, and I was excited to learn that the guest speaker, Vanessa Barger, will be presenting more workshops at the Hampton Roads Writers’ 2015 Conference in September.

After both of my recent writing adventures I rushed home brimming with inspiration, eager to write something new. Or revise something old. Or maybe, most alluring of all, read something timeless. (Hopefully I will do all three while watching a chickadee nest…)

Chickadee March 26

A Few Steps Closer to Spring

Weeds March 16

I usually count the first open-windows day as the first day of spring, but this year I confused the issue by cheating. One day last week, desperate for fresh air, I opened the windows and wore a coat in the house for a few hours. Which means I can’t count yesterday as the first.

Cat March 10

February is always a tough month for me. Its cold, sun-starved days routinely trigger new bouts of depression and anxiety. March, on the other hand, is usually a month of recovery.

Yard March 16

Yard March 16

And if this year’s recovery has been slower to start and harder to sustain than previous years, it has at least begun.

Hyacinth March 16

Hyacinth March 16

Honeysuckle March 16

Honeysuckle March 16

The weather forecast promises a return of winter before the week is finished, but the lengthening days will not allow it to stay.

Hydrangea March 16

Soon the yard will be overrun and winter will fall away into memory, as it does every year.

Brown Thrasher March 16

Robin March 17

Rabbit March 17

Before and After

Three days ago the yard was leafing out in anticipation of spring.

Honeysuckle Feb 14

That was before winter tightened its icy grip.

Honeysuckle Feb 17

I don’t expect the honeysuckle will sustain any permanent damage.

Honeysuckle Feb 14

Honeysuckle Feb 17

The hydrangea should also survive.

Hydrangea Feb 14

Hydrangea Feb 17

Because winter can’t hold on forever. The ice and snow will melt.

Stonecrop Feb 14

Stonecrop Feb 17

Soon I’ll be able to pry open the frozen gate and let spring edge a few steps further into the yard.

Gate Feb 17

From the Dragonfly Archive

Dragonfly June 26

Today’s gray gloom can’t be conquered by normal means.

Dragonfly July 25

Blankets and hot chocolate are no match for the wind’s creak and scrape.

Dragonfly July 23

Even the cats have given up. They’ve abandoned their interest in my newly reorganized guest room/office and curled up in their favorite beds.

Dragonfly July 5

I would join their willful hibernation if I could, but my to-do list is on the verge of collapsing under its own weight and becoming a singularity from which I can never escape.

Dragonfly Aug 24

So, when sleep is not an option, the only remaining cure for a day like today is dragonflies.

Dragonfly July 28

Lots and lots of dragonflies.

Dragonfly July 26

I feel better already.