Speedwell

I’m happy to report that speedwell is blooming in my yard.

Perhaps it’s a failing on my part, but I don’t aspire to keep a tame yard. I can’t understand the lawn-care tradition that reviles henbit and purple dead-nettle, dandelions and wood sorrel. From my perspective, these hardy survivors spread welcome blankets of green over otherwise brown winter yards, then they bloom during the bleakest days. Their flowers brighten those February and March weeks when my spirit is at its weakest, when I begin to despair that spring might actually skip a year. So I welcome this speedwell, this miniature blue perfection, reflecting a clear blue sky.

Dragonflies

My obsession with dragonflies flared during a particularly perfect summer, when hordes of them settled in the back yard. They fairly swarmed that year, gold and green and blue jewels glittering in the heat. In the seasons since, I’ve learned to call a few by name, though I am hardly a dragonfly expert. A field guide is on my wish list, but until then I’ll do the best I can with my camera and the internet.

 Eastern Pondhawk

  Halloween Pennant

  Eastern Amberwing

  Blue Dasher

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Once I started noticing them, I found them everywhere. While the above pictures were all taken in my own back yard, the photos below were taken at Norfolk Botanical Garden (top), at First Landing State Park (middle), and near the beach at Sandbridge (bottom).

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 Eastern Pondhawk

Snow and Northern Cardinals

By this time last year, the mid-Atlantic coast had seen several snows, with more to come. This was my back yard in early February:

By April, spring gripped the area. Snow melted into memory, but the cardinals stayed. I found this lovely fellow on one of my walks at First Landing State Park:

This year, I haven’t seen any snow. I also haven’t seen any cardinals. Perhaps both will make an appearance before spring.

(Ever wonder where Northern Cardinals get their brilliant hues? Check out this article.)

Videos of Summer

Today I dreamed of summer. In honor of longer, warmer days, I rescued a few videos from the cold darkness of digital storage.

More from the rabbit nest

The rabbit nest is empty now, a hollow pocket of memory lined with dirty hair and dead grass. Even so, the magic isn’t quite cold. It’s tempting to believe that every half-grown rabbit I see is one of “my” rabbits, to feel a warm connection with these creatures that are born and nursed in plain view, yet also in secrecy.