Royal Lace

 

It's the time of year when the hedgerows and meadows, are once again filled with wildflowers.
Queen Anne's Lace (Daucus carota)
This wild version of the carrot is one of the most common and best known "weeds" we have.
It's hard to imagine what a fallow field would look like in late summer without the white flower heads bobbing in the breeze.

It is thought that the carrots escaped from the gardens of the early European settlers in North America, having thrived in the wild to become what we know as Queen Anne's Lace.

 

 

It is so called because the flowers resemble lace; the red flower in the center represents a blood droplet where Queen Anne pricked herself with a needle when she was making the lace. The function of the tiny red flower, colored by anthocyanin, is to attract insects.

 

 The plant is commonly referred to as Cow Parsley  ( Anthriscus sylvestris )  in Great Britain.

 

Believe

 "In this broken human world, small miracles still emerge before us"

Bill Brown

And Then There Were Three

The deer have been giving birth to new fawns. Sprightly little things, all bouncy and curious.
One doe has a single fawn, another has twins, and this moma has triplets !
We have to erect cages around any plants or bushes we care about, otherwise the deer chew them, even if it's not something they like, they nibble away.
The population is growing......

 

Hello Summer

"Spring flew swiftly by, and summer came; and if the village had been beautiful at first, it was now in the full glow and luxuriance of its richness. The great trees, which had looked shrunken and bare in the earlier months, had now burst into strong life and health; and stretching forth their green arms over the thirsty ground, converted open and naked spots into choice nooks, where was a deep and pleasant shade from which to look upon the wide prospect, steeped in sunshine, which lay stretched out beyond. The earth had donned her mantle of brightest green; and shed her richest perfumes abroad. It was the prime and vigour of the year; all things were glad and flourishing."

~Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist

🌻

Hotter Than A Pepper Sprout

A little too much heat and humidity out there for some of the flowers.

Rather than waste them to wilt, they'll be decorating the kitchen table.

A week of ninety-five degree plus weather, takes a toll on most anything.

Be sure to hydrate, including your pets.

Knee Deep In June

Tell you what I like the best --

'Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine, -- some afternoon
Like to jes' git out and rest,
And not work at nothin' else!"

~ James Witcomb Riley : Knee Deep in June

Through The Garden Gate

Gorgeous blue skies and sunshine today.
The perfect day for pottering in the garden, and cleaning away Winter's grime.
The flowers are returning faster than we can count, each day, a new color.
A little spring cleaning, it's good for the soul...

 

 

Long May She Reign

Today marks the sixty eighth Cornation celebration of Queen Elizabeth  II

2 June 1953 at Westminster Abbey, Elizabeth II ascended the throne at the tender age of 27  upon the death of her father, George VI.

I remember in the late fifties waving my little Union Jack flag as she passed by my infant school in her royal procession, school children lined the streets.

I thought she was the most beautiful lady I had ever seen.

God Save The Queen.

 

The Fairest Month

June Days are upon us.
Heat and humidity are now a daily occurrence, followed by cooling, nightly pop-up storms.
The songbirds are raising their second clutch of babies.
Lightning bugs light up the night sky, and the sound of tree frogs fill the air.
The season's first garden-grown tomatoes are ripe for the picking, and those coveted sweet Vidalia onions are back in the stores.
A little bit of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic world.

 

 "Mine is the Month of Roses; yes, and mine

The Month of Marriages! All pleasant sights

And scents, the fragrance of the blossoming vine,

The foliage of the valleys and the heights.

Mine are the longest days, the loveliest nights;

The mower's scythe makes music to my ear;

I am the mother of all dear delights;

I am the fairest daughter of the year."

~  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow