|Brilliant yellow Tabebuia blossoms camouflage a Western Tanager|
The wild birds here would be perfectly happy to eat us out of house and home. So I have a budget. When the seed is gone, the feeders may be left empty. There is so much abundance in the hillsides and gardens, it isn't like anyone is going to starve. Easter Sunday is not one of those days. On Easter, our favorite fliers may count on eating and drinking like royalty.
Mid-day- tapping, more like a child playing Morris code with a pencil than a woodpecker's machine- gun drumming, could be heard outside the living room. I squinted up through the sunshine yellow blossoms of the tabebuia tree in hopes of spotting what I thought was there.
Way at the tippie top, there he was. The first Western Tanager of the season. Trying to hide in the only tree where his plumage might blend in. I ran inside. Grabbed the the camera. Installed the telephoto lens. Prayed the snowbird on a rest stop between Central American and northern forests would still be on his break. He was.
|Bee on scented geranium|
The past few decades the news has abounded with the shortage of bees. Really? Probably in areas of monoculture and pesticides. Here, breezes spritz the air with lavender, thyme and scented geraniums, their blossomy scents outracing my clippers. Here, thanks to diversity and a minimum of synthetic horticultural intervention, bees are year-round partners in production of food and flower.
|A hummingbird sips its share of nectar from butterfly weed|
Today was a 15 hour day. It's been a very long time since I've pulled a schedule like this week, but that is how it is for freelancers in every profession.
My blogging buddies: forgive me. I am remiss in returning your visits. Soon.
Today, I did not get a good walk-a-bout working in the garden. But it isn't necessary to work up a sweat to be ready to pass the night in gentle sleep. Memories redolent with garden scents relax. I'm sure how I feel now is how I felt, , when as a child, my mother sang a lullaby to me.