sorry for the delay folks…we’re having some technical difficulties
i feel like a traveller, waiting for take off, with my plane delayed on the tarmac. the ice if off the lake. the sap has been running for two weeks, and the buds are ready to burst. but we’re still having technical difficulties with the arrival of spring. an april blizzard dumped 10 inches of the snow on the ground, and the temps can’t seem to climb high enough to clear it out. people are getting antsy. the peanuts and pretzels offered by the flight attendants aren’t enough. i’m fearing there may be a mutiny if things don’t improve quickly.
dried anthurium leaf
hydrangea, that ubiquitous shrub for shady yards here in the north, is one of those things that gives me pleasure disproportionate to its value. when i stop to think about why i love it so much it comes down to three unique-to-me and totally unrelated reasons: 1) my husband steve once called the little florets in the blossoms “tethered butterflies” and it has always stuck with me as the perfect metaphor, 2) i love that hydrangea is called hortensia in french–i think it is a beautiful word, and 3) i love that the blossoms, when dried, are sturdy like construction paper and don’t curl up, like tissue paper, like so many blossoms do.
do you love hydrangea too? if so, tell me about it. the weirder the reasons the better.
dried hydrangea florets
citrus colored mondrian
another take on yesterday’s citrusy subject. one of the only benefits of late winter storms is time for unscheduled free play.
clementine, meyer lemon, blood orange, pink lemon, lime, navel orange, lemon, and grapefruit peels
still life with fruit
well, spring didn’t exactly arrive last week like i had expected it to. as most of my american followers who watch the evening news probably already know, we are getting hammered with a spring blizzard currently dropping another 10 inches of snow on our fair state. so, rather than going out to gather a sampling of spring buds as i had hoped, i turned to the fruit basket on my kitchen counter instead. i spent the afternoon patiently peeling fruit, admiring the pastel colors, and filling the house with the scent of citrus. it was the perfect antidote to the weather.
clementine, meyer lemon, blood orange, pink lemon, lime, navel orange, lemon, grapefruit
this winter weed stem, standing about 1 meter tall, looks fragile. but it has survived all of our northern winter, including 1.5 meters of snow in february alone. but thursday may be it’s last stand. we, and most of the middle of the country, have an epic blizzard blowing in. because the temperature will be hovering right around freezing, we will probably get gifted with a mix of heavy snow and freezing rain. even this hardy minnesotan will be tested to her limits. oops, i mean it, it will get tested to its limits. a little freudian slip there.
late winter weed stem (purple loosestrife)