Grape Arbors and Chinese Poppies

Yesterday morning, a spike buck was pruning the lower branches of the fruit trees right outside my living room window. He must be hanging out with the doe I saw. I was so enamored of him I didn't even think to reach for my camera until he had moved on. Having deer present provides a sense of companionship. I can learn from their quiet gentleness. It's become necessary, though, to use a natural repellent on the flower beds to keep them from nibbling, which they did a few nights ago. They are particularly fond of the new buds that are forming on the hollyhocks.

The grape arbor is beginning to fill out nicely, creating a canopy of green that expands and deepens every day. After the Great Jelly Fiasco, at Ansel, in '91, I promised my younger son I would never make jelly again. It was scarring. The grapes had been picked, some were still being strained, glass jars were boiling and jelly bubbling. Then, the phone rang. It was the tipping point that took us right into harrowing. I thought I could handle multi-tasking with the phone on one shoulder, but the kitchen soon turned into a disaster scene. Triage became necessary. Sometime that evening, jelly did get into the jars, the jars were sealed and, eventually, we enjoyed the fruits of our labor.

Time heals all wounds and I'm planning to make another attempt at the mountain. This time, along with the jelly, I'm threatening to make wine, which might be a better and more fun alternative. We shall see.

The Chinese poppies have bloomed in large numbers. I must have at least fifty that will soon be joining these early bloomers.

I also have at least fifty of these getting ready to open. They are part of the lily family. I'm not sure what they will all look like, but beautiful, that is certain.

For the first time in many years, I washed sheets and hung them out on the clothesline to dry. I remembered how wonderful they smell after being in the sun and fresh air. When I was young, we spent many hours hanging clothes out to dry. It seemed like a monumental and sometimes unbearable task, at the time, but last night I went to sleep with the sweet smell of childhood.

There is such beauty in this old world. All we have to do is open our eyes, really open our eyes. It's everywhere.