A beautiful day in the neighborhood

I knew it to be so even before I got out of bed this morning. Through the open window I could hear my ‘friends’ the Crows cawing, and Seagulls singing, you know, the usual suspects. It’s early, but not too as it’s light out so here I am. The house is still sleeping and quiet. I just thought I’d write something before all the ruckus of the day begins.

Stephen and I went to Sparrow Beach yesterday and loaded up on Ferns, much to his dismay as he sat in the car listening to his I Pod or whatever it is that young people plug into their ears now a days.

I was able to gather a few choice pieces of Driftwood as well, but not many as they were heavy and we were a long way down from the car. No rocks this time, couldn’t find any that I liked enough to make it worth the lug back to the car.

But as I said, I dug up four or five ferns along with whatever else had intertwined itself with the particular Fern I had dug up. I found a Wild Rose growing deep into the woods near a stream of water under a canopy of Pines. It was dank and diffuse in there, and I think I heard a critter of sorts moving around, watching me. The volume on my imagination turned up to ten so I skid’ addled tout sweet! I did get the Rose however.












When we finally got home, I began planting, and discovered that I had dug up some wild berries inadvertently, much to Keith’s consternation, as he envisioned a Berry takeover of immense proportions. Keith, Keith, Keith. I planted them anyway.

Today I go in search of Hydrangeas. They grow well here and are beautiful when in bloom.
The neighborhood is waking up and meandering about. I hear Ron, two doors down, sawing wood for probably yet another garden arbor for his wife’s (the Garden Lady) garden, and Rosco, the dog who lives next door, seems to be digging under the fence, gosh darn-it. Guess I better go shoo him away!
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