*Cue Announcer*
We now return to our regularly scheduled season, already in progress…
In the Yard
Hummingbird Hopes and a Publication Note
A few years ago I spent several months filling, emptying, cleaning, and refilling three hummingbird feeders. Instead of hummingbirds, the feeders attracted wasps and ants. Disappointed, and convinced I had done something wrong, I put away the feeders.
Last year my hummingbird hunger stirred again when we lost our Fourth of July rose. Surveying the large gap in our yard, we decided to plant with hummingbirds in mind. After a bit of research, we filled the space with honeysuckle, bee balm, and Rose of Sharon. The honeysuckle and Rose of Sharon grew enough to open a few blooms over the summer and fall, but the bee balm was past its flowering season by the time we planted it.
All of the flowers survived our long, cold winter, and last week we added a few annuals to the mix (because it’s impossible to resist the instant reward of planting a flower already in bloom.)
All we can do now is wait. Will they come?
My last bit of news today is a Publication Note — three of my poems are posted at The Blue Hour! Many thanks to the editors!
Pollinating the Pear Tree
It happens every year, and every year I spend hours trying to capture it with my camera.
Every year I fail.
The pear tree’s spring spectacle is impossible to capture in photos. Or in words.
So many bees!
The nectar explosion brings a horde of other pollinators, too. Enough to keep a taxonomist busy for weeks. Today I became distracted by a handful of lady beetles that were burrowing into the blooms.
At first I assumed the lady beetles were eating aphids, or other insects. But after watching a while, I decided they were there for the nectar, like everyone else.
Everyone except me, that is.
I was there for the sunshine and the photos, and the riveting wonder of it all.
Between Seasons
I had hoped spring would chase winter’s gloom into memory, but it hasn’t yet. Instead there are all these photos of hunger and snow, dating back to October.
Along with hunger and snow, this winter brought weeks of numbing cold.
I was glad I had left the bird houses hanging because I saw chickadees retreating into them at nightfall.
It’s not that winter was completely cheerless. The yard had a few winter blooms, and there were certainly days of sunshine.
But I’m ready for spring. Real spring, with hours on end of warmth and nest building and bird song.
I can’t be the only one who is fretful and impatient. Maybe that’s why it seems as if spring is embarrassed to be arriving so late. Instead of rushing in with thunder and rain-scented gusts, spring is edging into the yard like a guilty ticket holder who overslept and missed the opening scene. Bees are sluggish, the irises and pear tree bloomed while I wasn’t looking, and the house stays chilly despite bright sunshine and open windows.
I suppose I’ll be complaining about the heat, before too long, and wishing for a cool draft in the house. Because summer always follows, and fall after it. And then there will come a day, sometime in early September, when I will wish for winter. But for now all of my wishes are focused on spring.
More Snow on the Way
Last week a snowstorm clipped our area as it funneled down from the north. This week a snowstorm is barreling up from the south.
After complaining my way through two mild winters, I’m trying to focus on the happier aspects of a “normal” winter. Fresh snow is pretty, hard freezes mean fewer insect pests in the summer, and icy walks renew my gratitude for warm blankets and hot water.
What do you love best about winter?
Rae Spencer 