Tim recorded 5½ inches in his rain gauge from Tropical Storm Debby. We never lost power and I think the storm had technically weakened to a tropical depression by the time it reached here. (We never got a tropical storm warning here either.) All the same, it was good to be safe inside and hunkered down for a day.
We heard reports of tornados and flooding elsewhere in nearby counties so we were lucky. Today we drove down to Bolin Creek Trail to get a good look at the creek and it was close to overflowing. The pictures taken there last September show what the creek looked like when the water was low and the stones were visible in the streambed. See here.
from the bridge looking downstream
from the bridge looking upstream
branches touching the water
water swirling around some roots
water creeping up the bank
water rushing by
Today the sky is blue with white puffy clouds and the sun is bright and warm. We already have a feels like temperature of 90°F and tomorrow promises to be even warmer.
Sometimes it hits me how much I miss celebrating the seasons of the year in New England. Strawberry picking in the field and beach sunsets for midsummer, apple picking in the orchard and visiting the old-fashioned cider mill at the autumn equinox, picking out a Christmas tree at the local tree farm before the solstice, visiting a sugar house and stocking up on maple syrup for the coming year on the spring equinox…
This year my daughter Larisa hosted a wonderful feast for Lughnasa/Lammas, complete with a loaf of challah bread in honor of the first harvest festival. Katherine read the poem I posted on my blog that morning before we started eating. Later, as we were finishing up one of the guests suggested we go apple picking from a neighborhood tree. I was startled and found myself blurting out for the second time this year, “I’m having trouble adjusting!” And then added, as if to explain to the puzzled group, “Apple-picking is for the autumn equinox!”
The first time I blurted that out was back in March, when everyone down here was busy picking strawberries. I had to explain then that to me, picking strawberries happens in June and means the summer solstice. To me. This is proving to be a most difficult adjustment for my brain.
For Lughnasa we used to visit Buttonwood Farm, walk through their huge sunflower field, go on a hayride and stand in a long line for ice cream made right there on the farm. This year, I joined my daughter and her guests for a short walk to a solitary little apple tree. I watched my grandchildren climb it and pick some apples. On the first day of August. (Sadly, I had left my camera at home, missing a great photo op…) My brain is still perplexed but hopefully some day I will find a way to adjust!
7.2.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden eastern tiger swallowtail
Yesterday was a great weather day! We took advantage of rare low humidity and temperature and scooted over to the botanical garden. There were many bugs out and about, doing their summer thing. I’m suffering from another batch of spider bites on my legs and I have no idea how they’re getting there. (I now know they’re spider bites because my reaction rash is so bad it drove me to a dermatologist. She was mystified and had a biopsy done on the rash to see what was causing it. I hope I won’t need another round of steroids!)
pennyroyal
smooth purple coneflower
eastern cicada killer wasp on lamb’s ear leaves
bee on lamb’s ear flowers
ant on cutleaf coneflower
oakleaf hydrangea
pitcher plant in the summer sunlight
zipper spider
ironweed
fly on rattlesnake master
pond cypress (?)
bee on lanceleaf arrowhead
some kind of bug under the phlox
phlox
more phlox
still more phlox
bugs in the woolly rose mallow
New England aster
I hope you enjoyed the glimpse into the buggy summer botanical garden. Creepy crawlies go hand in hand with pretty flowers. I’m biding my time until autumn arrives!
6.21.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden Coastal Plain Habitat boardwalk in June
It was too hot for a walk but I had to get my summer picture for Karma’s “same location for all 4 seasons” photo hunt. And my coastal plain habitat boardwalk picture for June. I darted into the botanical garden, got them, and then took two quick pics on my way back out.
fewflower milkweed
Horace’s duskywing
These Fevered Days — to take them to the Forest Where Waters cool around the mosses crawl — And shade is all that devastates the stillness Seems it sometimes this would be all — ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1467)
Living in a heavily wooded neighborhood I only get a peek through the trees to catch a sunrise. It happened at 6:00 am on the summer solstice here. Hours later, for solar noon I took my flower fairy out to the moss garden for a little photo shoot. There was a small patch of sunlight available to highlight the very short shadow she was casting.
1:17 pm, solar noon shortest shadow of the year!
As I was photographing the fairy, mama deer brought her fawn by to check out the scene. It was so hot outside!
mama deer and her fawn
In the evening, for some reason, the dew point dropped and even though it was still hot, it became much less humid. Midsummer magic? We packed up the grandchildren and headed to the Piedmont Wildlife Center. None of us had been there before and they were having a summer solstice celebration. What a great time we had! We got a closer look at some of the birds and turtles in rehab.
Piedmont Wildlife Center barred owl
red-shouldered or red-tailed (?) hawk
Katherine showed a lot of interest in the raptors and Finn was enchanted with the turtles.
box turtle
another box turtle
We were all delighted with Pumpkin, a sweet little opossum. She’s full grown but only about a third of the size of an average adult. She had a rough start in life. The kids asked all kinds of questions, like, does she eat ants? The answer was not usually, unless they happened to be on something else she was eating, kind of like pepper or another seasoning. And opossums only eat the ticks that are in their fur when they’re grooming themselves.
Pumpkin on her running wheel
We had a little walk through the woods and saw a few more birds and animals tucked inside their enclosures. Eventually we got to the solstice campfire where the kids could make their own s’mores. A man playing his guitar gently on the side added to the peaceful mood.
Finn roasted a marshmallow for me, too
Katherine displaying one of her perfectly roasted marshmallows
After a while we were invited to participate in a little solstice ritual: writing on a piece of paper what we wished to let go of from the old year and what we wanted to welcome into the next year. Then we burned our papers in the campfire. It was a meaningful way to pause and take stock of our intentions. I noticed Katherine took it very seriously while Finn, being four years younger, was naturally interested in other things.
a small painted rock along our path
The plan was to go to Maple View Farm next, for ice cream and to view the sunset. But, we finished our ice cream (sorbet for me) an hour before the sun was due to set, so we called it a day and headed home. It was wonderful celebrating the summer solstice for the first time with our grandchildren.
6.8.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden eastern tiger swallowtail
These pictures are from another walk we took when we were still sick, the weather being so nice we pushed ourselves out the door. It was good to see even more things blooming.
wild bergamot
Canada lily (endangered)
We stopped for quite a while to listen to a Carolina wren loudly singing from a high branch just off the path.
Carolina wren
And I’m also glad we went because, finally, the lemon drop swamp azalea was blooming! It was back in January I first spotted the little buds and kept thinking it would bloom soon. I checked on it each and every visit, wondering what color the blooms would be. A lovely shade of lemon chiffon, perhaps.
‘lemon drop’ swamp azalea
I do miss my wild beach roses but down here I’ve happily discovered wild Carolina roses, also known as pasture roses. They look about the same to me!
Carolina rose with bee
For myself I hold no preference among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. ~ Edward Abbey (Desert Solitaire)
spider flower
tall thimbleweed
The very tall (up to 8 feet!) giant coneflowers towered over me!
giant coneflower
beebalm
woodland tickseed
white-breasted nuthatch
house finch
The height of a patch of native woodland sunflowers also caught my eye. Since I’m only 5 feet tall I guess I’m easily impressed.
woodland sunflower
And now, the weather is hot and humid, with no break in sight. But lots of flowers out there in the garden are surely thriving in it.
5.31.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden common yarrow
May ended on a very pleasant note, with lots of sunshine, mild temperatures and no humidity! Since we knew these conditions wouldn’t last we went out for a walk, in spite of us both being sick with colds. Who knows when such perfect weather will come around again?
bronze fennel
And of course, it being ten days since our last walk, different things were blooming. It’s never the same garden twice.
golden tickseed
bee visiting English lavender
purple coneflower
When I watched the sun rise this morning, due east, I felt that the universe, the solar system, the earth, the year, the season, the day, were still in order, no matter what stupidities man might achieve today. It is good to know such things about the place you live. It is good to know that there are certainties. ~ Hal Borland (Hal Borland’s Book of Days)
hemlock cones
woodland pinkroot
crow poison (poisonous to humans and animals)
common sanddragon dragonfly
phlox
The single greatest lesson the garden teaches is that our relationship to the planet need not be zero-sum, and that as long as the sun still shines and people still can plan and plant, think and do, we can, if we bother to try, find ways to provide for ourselves without diminishing the world. ~ Michael Pollan (Food, Inc.)
5.21.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden sun-drenched female northern cardinal
It was a borderline-humidity morning, between comfy and muggy, and Tim was still coughing from the cold he caught in Italy, but we decided to chance a walk anyway. This is the time of year when the sun feels too bright and my camera sometimes responded by turning the blurry bokeh effect into solid black.
pipevine swallowtail butterfly
We forgot the bug repellent and I came home with two mosquito bites, one on each forearm. But the pretty (and non-biting) insects were out enjoying the sunshine, too! I’m not 100% sure of all my identifications here, but I’m giving them my best guess. Some of the butterflies, dragonflies and damselflies seemed new to me.
fire pink
common whitetail dragonfly
oakleaf hydrangea
dusky dancer damselfly on hemlock needles
Summer, for the cold-blooded, represents the Elysian days. Warmth brings life and animation. Their blood responds, literally, to every rise and fall of the mercury. Chill is synonymous with sluggishness, cold with immobility. The sun directly regulates the intensity with which they live. ~ Edwin Way Teale (Grasshopper Road)
white waterlily
ebony jewelwing (aka black-winged damselfly)
grass pink orchid
mating silver-spotted skipper butterflies
tulip prickly pear
variable dancer damselfly
stokes’ aster
chamomile
downy wood mint
Coastal Plain Habitat boardwalk in May
Even though it isn’t technically summer here yet, either meteorologically or astronomically, it can now be called summer for all intents and purposes!
5.14.24 ~ Via Calimala, Florence, Italy photo by Tim
Now we need a new definition of the self: I am not what I know but what I am willing to learn. Mystery waits in the mirror. Curiosity and learning begin before breakfast. Growing, we move through worlds of difference, the cycles and circles of a life, fulfilled by overlapping with the lives of others. ~ Mary Catherine Bateson (Full Circles, Overlapping Lives: Culture & Generation in Transition)
