a family of makers

I am grateful that both my children are makers. My son and his girlfriend spent the day gathering violets, so he could make a batch of violet infused mead. Joseph began making mead about two years ago as a way to use up some of the honey our bees produce each summer. Two years later he is deep down the mead rabbit hole, and our basement is slowly filling with beautiful hand-labeled bottles fill with all kinds of different ferments. I am not unhappy about it.

common blue violet flowers in May (Viola sororia)

broken but still beautiful

This large crane feather looks like it may have lost a battle with a lawnmower blade. I think it is all the more beautiful for it.

sandhill crane feather

survivors

This little random collection of hag stones (stones with holes) from the Mediterranean is one of the few things that survived our house fire. Historically, hag stones were believed to possess magical powers. So that is kind of interesting.

collection of Mediterranean hag stones

downy soft

These are the downy feathers of our sandhill cranes.They’ve been preening. Mom and dad have been taking turn on the egg(s). Steve I anxiously await to see if they will have two colts this year or one.

sandhill crane downy feathers

everyone wants a pulpit

I have been slowly clearing our three acres of the obnoxiously invasive buckthorn. And every time I clear a few yards of woods, one of the first woodland plants to move in are the jack-in-the-pulpits. I have hundreds of them, maybe more. They are the last of the woodland ephemerals. This one, was only about 8 inches high when I photographed him. In a week or two or so he will be 18 inches high. Sometimes, if the rain is plentiful and consistent, I have seem them get 2 feet tall. I love their upswept arms–so joyous–they have a special place in my heart.

jack-in-the-pulpit flower with bulb and roots exposed