Our tree this week comes from Avalus and I think it’s pretty special.
I have no idea how the smaller trunk grew that way, but it looks to me like the two trees are dancing.
My grandmother loved flowers and my grandfather adored my grandmother and so he kept a large mixed flower garden where something was blooming from earliest spring until latest fall. Every few days he would tour the garden and cut the finest blooms for my Oma who kept them in an indigo blue vase beside her reading chair. First would come tulips and hyacinths, then branches of apple, cherry and plum blossoms. Soon lilac would follow in fragrant shades of deep purple and white and then finally, finally, the peonies would bloom. They were my Oma’s favourite flower and their yearly appearance was an anticipated event.
I’ve always wanted to grow peonies, but it’s one of those things I never quite got around to. We have a small yard and a large patio and we just didn’t have space. Then, one of our trees died. It was a white lilac tree (not a lilac bush) that had never done well and suddenly I had an open space big enough for peonies. A friend who helps me with my garden found 2 peony shrubs and last year we planted them in early June. They struggled and straggled along over the summer and fall and I wasn’t sure I’d get blooms this year, but about 2 weeks ago buds appeared, three on the pink bush and one on the purple bush. I’ve been filled with anticipation waiting for them to open and yesterday when the sun finally appeared all three pink flowers opened at once and they’re glorious.
On of the things Marcus sent was a mould to make 4 resin balls, each about 1″ across. I think Marcus made them himself and I love them. They have enough space and a big opening to put things inside and give cool results. I’ve been having lots of fun here.
Lots more beneath the fold
Hello there. I know, I’ve been very absent recently. Work was pretty demanding, the Damokles’ Sword of not knowing whether my contract will be renewed hanging over my head* and life being busy as usual.
Last weekend we first had #1’s “culture workshop”, which is an evening when all the groups in her school can present their projects, including her class. It was an amazing evening and the kids are really damn talented, from the chubby boy with the glasses doing a kick ass rap presentation to the Syrian girls reciting poetry about their home town Aleppo.
The next day was the little one’s school festival, which usually means the very same people working a lot. It#s the same everywhere. My colleague was totally stressed out because she was organising things for her kid’s festival the same weekend. Or as Pratchett noted: if you want to get something done, give it to somebody who is already busy.
And the works in the garden have finally begun. There’s nothing like coming home with a migraine and having people use heavy machinery around the house.
As a result, we used this long weekend (holiday on Thursday, “bridge day” on Friday) to lick our wounds and recover and spend some very quiet time together, going for walks etc.
But I also got some resin art done over the weeks, especially after Marcus’ latest parcel.
Some of this will be up for sale/auction for the FtB legal defence fund, so if you set your eye on something, just let me know.
*I’m pretty positive that I won’t be unemployed come next term, but that’s not the same as knowing and I’ve noticed that it has been slowly wearing me down.
First of all, this is what the garden looks like now:
In tearing down the old stuff they found tons of unreasonable concrete which they have to get our somehow.
First project: tealight holder:
These look very complicated but are actually dead easy and I’d say the perfect project if you want to do something with resin but not invest a lot of money in moulds and stuff: Just pour your resin onto wax paper, let cure for about 12 hours, fold over a glass, fix with a rubber and cure completely.
The fish are printed again, though I bought the sheet this time.
Next projects are under the fold:
Much like leaves in autumn, white trilliums put on a bit of a show before they disappear, turning delicate shades of pink as they begin to wither. Their passing marks the end of the showy spring flowers in the forest. The mayapples are still to bloom, but their flowers hide under big umbrella leaves and are barely seen. The buttercups and forget-me-nots that linger are small and fragile and just don’t command the same attention as a trillium or bloodroot or Jack-in-the-pulpits. The forest is losing its frills.
I can see a tinge of pink on the many of the white trillium flowers in our forest which means they’ll soon be gone for another year. Before they go, I thought I’d share one of the larger patches we see every day. It’s been an excellent year for trilliums and Jack and I consider ourselves very lucky to have this so nearby. I’m sorry about the bad light. It’s another cold and dreary day here.
It’s that wonderful time of month when Nightjar shares her photo essay about the conditions of light.
I confess that I haven’t been as inspired lately, and that’s in part because light is becoming too bright and harsh for my taste already. I find autumn’s golden light and winter’s low and cool light so much more interesting to work with. But May is the month of flowers and bugs, and you can never go wrong with a random assortment of flowers and bugs under May sunlight, right?
We have something special from Nightjar today.
Remember this (https://proxy.freethought.online/affinity/2019/01/16/surrounded-by-rocks-an-exploration-series-chapter-5/) when I said that visiting that limestone hill during Spring would be more interesting because of all the wild orchids? Well, this month I did just that and managed to find 4 species of wild orchids! The Bee and Yellow Bee orchids I found mostly on my way up, while the Pyramidal and Mirror orchids were everywhere at the roadside verges around the hill. I was thrilled to find so many Mirror orchids this year, they are among my favourite wild flowers just because of how glossy and shiny they are. Mirror orchids are pollinated exclusively by a single species of solitary wasp and I love how far their mimicry goes, eyes and everything!
Jack-in-the-pulpits are one of my favourite spring flowers and they won’t be around for much longer so I’m sharing while I still can. This has been an excellent year for them in our wee forest. They’re literally all over and many of them have grown to be a foot tall or more. Obviously, they like this year’s wet and dreary type of spring much more than I do.
During lunch break walk at work, I have encountered this little fellow. He flew by and sat on the macadam right next to me – a very conspicuous bright green jewel on the grey dull road. It was really tiny – about the size of a thumbnail. And of course I did not have my camera and macro lenses on me, so you have to do with this rather poor pictures made with my phone.
Once or twice a year I get down on the forest floor to take a few photos of the tall trees in our wee Carolinian Forest. I love the perspective. I’m not the only one it seems who like to look up. Italian photographer Manuelo Bececco has created a stunning group of forest photographs by pointing his camera up.
“In the middle of the woods, I seem to see everything in my own way—giant trees or branches that form barriers, irises of the eyes,” Bececco tells My Modern Met. “These are things that I only see in my mind and that I can sometimes turn into photographs.”
Photographed across different seasons and different times of day, the forest’s changing ambiance is expertly harnessed by Bececco. The Italian photographer is able to use the light, and the mood it generates, to his advantage and capture a mystical moment in the quiet of the woods. This forest photography is deeply personal for Bececco, as each photograph is inspired by an important time in his life. And for him, it’s been a pleasant surprise to see how well it’s been received by the public.
I’ve included a few of his photos here to whet your appetite, but I encourage you to check out the link at My Modern Met to see the entire grouping. Mr. Bececco has captured not only the many moods of the forest, but also the deeply felt emotions that being amongst such giants elicits. My thanks go to rq for pointing this story my way.