The Night Writer….
June 8, 2023, 11:00 pm
The day is done, and it is nearly midnight. I am a night owl, finding my thoughts in the quiet of the evening while listening to the voices of the forest. The gentle hum of a slow, steady rain hits the roof tonight and drips into garden buckets strategically placed to capture water. Mr. H says, “Waste not want not,” and I agree. I can nearly hear the deep sigh from the garden, roots flexing and relaxing into the soil, feeling whole again after a heavy layer of compost was spread today, sealing in the earth's goodness.
Tani and I arrived home before sunset. As I pulled into the driveway, I spotted Priscilla porcupine, a little bundle of quills making her way around the cutting garden beds. She sensed our arrival, putting a little waddle into her walk. I clapped a few times to get her to quickly ( which isn’t that quick for a porcupine) pick up the pace and make her way to the woods. We have trained Tani to be on alert at the sight of a porcupine, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take the chance to say hello as he does with most people and animals. We put him on a lead in the evenings, just in case.
Priscilla Porcupine
We took a stroll through the meadow to see what was growing. I am excited to see Lupine finally taking hold after three years of waiting. If you were to ask me about the dominant color wave in our gardens, I would say shades of purple, deep, light, and brilliant. I love seeing the iris come up each year in the meadow; I think the shades of wild iris are beautiful. Looking back at the house and seeing a fervent wave of ferns across the meadow was lovely. If I had to choose between a garden bed and a meadow, I would select a flowering field without question. My only request would be to add dahlias and peonies to the mix. On our recent trip to England, I spotted wild peonies growing amongst cow parsley. It was glorious.
I fell in love with a Torch lily ( Kiniphofia uvaria) in the nursery the other day and added it to a terracotta pot outside our kitchen window. I look forward to watching it grow and tucking it into the garden in autumn.
Daisies are popping up in the woodpile. I feel like I should write a poem about them…they are so sweet.
I am getting a little worried that my collection of birch bark, river stones, and driftwood might be bordering on obsessive. You can see my collection alongside the old Vietnamese bench in front of our carriage house. I can’t help myself. Do you ever feel drawn to collecting things on your walks?
Lastly, I couldn't resist the light moving across the pine wood floors in our keeping room today.
With that, I say good night and good morning from Tahilla Farm.
It is nearly the bewitching hour, and I must post this blog before midnight to stay within the parameters of my #beginagain writing project during the month of June.
Jeanne ;))
#beginagainwriting8
