Old Dimes and New

A winter storm blew through Tennessee three days ago. It began it's work of snow and ice in the southern plains and basically travelled on I-40 East all the way through North Carolina, leaving a white-covered world in its wake. Though we received several inches of snow and a thorough coating of ice, we were more fortunate than some and didn't lose power, which is good for more reasons than warmth and convenience since our water well runs on electricity!

The storm began innocently enough with gentle snowflakes, but before it was finished we had horses looking more like horscicles with their icy manes and tails, and a thick crust of ice over the snow, making it necessary to punch through with every footstep in order to walk up to the barn. Good exercise, especially going uphill, but a little more treacherous going downhill!

Then last night the clouds cleared away and the incredible, unearthly beauty of a full moon shone on all that snow and ice! How to describe such a scene? I could either use a hundred words or condense it down to one ... silvery. As John and I stood on the front porch and gazed at the scene, it was like looking out on a world wrought in silver. Now I've spent the last several days cleaning coins both old and new (a story for another blog), and all I could think of while surveying the beautiful night time view, was "old silver." The charcoal grey of the sky, the soft, white shining snow, the brilliant twinkling of stars and ice-covered trees and ground showed forth that old, warm brilliance of aged and worn silver, the kind of silver you've seen in old china cabinets in the homes of old families; well-used, well-worn, and well-loved with years of service and beauty. That's what the night looked like.

The next morning was another picture altogether! Such sun-dazzling, sparkling, brilliant white! Every ice crystal on the snow leapt up in the sunlight - it was as if there were 3-D sparkles everywhere! Again, after haying and chores, I stood on the front porch surveyed the view, thinking of the difference between last night's snow and ice scene and this morning's scene, and again I thought of silver; but this time it was the silver of a bright new dime, stunningly beautiful with it's brilliant pristine polish. But as I looked and pondered, it occurred to me that perhaps I preferred the softer glow of older silver."For you, O God, have tested us;

you have tried us as silver is tried." (Psalm 66:10)

"He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, and they will bring offerings in righteousness to the Lord." (Malachi 3:3)

Perhaps after all these years I have become more like those old silver coins; rubbed and refined to a good, old polish. The flash and brilliance has faded, but hopefully what is true and pure has remained, to the glory and praise of the Refiner.

Fishy Business

I have 27 cousins, and it's great - I love it. A great many of these cousins, instead of being Kissin' Cousins, are Fishin' Cousins. We love to fish!

One of the cousins, John, had a couple of great photos that I wanted to share. Below you'll see the results of one fishing trip: Both fisherman caught the same fish! (Now there's a moralism for you.) I wish I'd been there to see the realization dawn on them as they were both reeling in.

The fisherman on the left is my cousin, Aaron, and the one on the right is a friend. You may remember my postings of Aaron's photos of pre- and post Hurricane Ike when he was embedded with Texas Law enforcement and wildlife teams.

Another beautiful photo taken by John was on a recent fishing trip to Port Isabel. This is a Ray of some type, and it almost looks translucently other-worldly as it lies on the deck.

Thanks, John, for letting me share a couple of your photos!

Tour of Roses

The lily has a smooth stalk,

Will never hurt your hand;

"But the rose upon her brier

Is lady of the land.

There's sweetness in an apple tree,

And profit in the corn;

But lady of all beauty Is a rose upon a thorn.

When with moss and honey

She tips her bending brier,

And half unfolds her glowing heart,

She sets the world on fire."     The Rose - by Christina Rossetti

Let's continue our walk around the garden and visit other roses that have bloomed.  First today is Crimson Glory, royal among roses.  It is huge - as large as a small grapefruit, with petals of deepest blood red velvet and a fragrance so rich it's baroque.  This is it's first year in the garden, so I am looking forward to it's more mature years as it begins to cover the archway.  On the opposite side of the arch are two young clematis (clematii?) that are burgundy and purple.  The colors on this archway in years to come will be spectacular!

In contrast to Crimson Glory, and only a few feet away, is Bloomfield Dainty.  It truly is a dainty rose, looking much like it was composed from the finest tissue paper.  It's fragrance is appropriately light - sweet with a touch of spice.                                           Here's a close-up of Bloomfield Dainty."You love the roses - so do I.  I wish

The sky would rain down roses, as they rain

From off the shaken bush.  Why will it not?

Then all the valley would be pink and white

And soft to tread on.  They would fall as light

As feathers, smelling sweet: and it would be

Like sleeping and yet waking, all at once."     Roses - George Elliot

The next little rose is the well-named Sweet Pea.  If it were not already named so, you would naturally called it by that name!  The blossoms are small, but profuse, with a fragrance that distills the air.  You only have to be in the vicinity, or down-wind, of Sweet Pea to enjoy it's fragrance.  Here you see it loaded down so heavily with it's first flush of bloom that it can no longer maintain it's compact form.

This is Sweet Pea close up.  Doesn't it have just the sunniest center?In this photo Sweet Pea is in the background, and we see Republic of Texas up close.  Every native Texan must have a yellow rose in the garden, and this one is an excellent choice.  It blooms profusely, is easy to care for, and is heavily scented.  Between Republic and Sweet Pea, the whole front yard smelled of roses.  "As a flower in the garden

Bending toward the sun,

Unfolds it's tiny petals

One, by one, by one...

So faith expands it's beauty

Until at last it grows

Into life's lasting flower...

The heart's fair perfect rose."   - Rebecca Helmann

This beauty, with all it's hundred petals, is Pioneer Spirit. When it's fully open, it reminds you of a fluffy, pink powder puff.  In fact, it has that light rosy powder scent.  When this rose burst all it's blooms, the trellis looked like a little girl's birthday party.  It was so cheerful!And finally, we have New Dawn.  This is a vigorous climber, reaching 15-20 feet, so we have planted it on the old basketball goal at the back corner of the little barn, behind the dog runs.  Why back there, you ask, where it's not easily seen?  But, I say, why not?  When I drive the truck and trailer down the back lane, or am caring for dogs in the run, there is something beautiful to enjoy.That completes our tour of the roses.  At least for this year!  Next year I should have a new one to show you, Lavender Lassie, which was just planted in front of the porch.  It, too, is a vigorous climber and in years to come should grace the column and top-edge of the front porch.  I can't wait!  Till then, here's one more poem, and thank you for letting me show you the roses.

"It is only a tiny

rosebud,

A flower of God's design,

But I cannot unfold the petals

With these clumsy hands of mine.

 - The secret of unfolding flowers

Is not known to such as I,

The flower God opens so sweetly,

In my hands would fade and die.

- I cannot unfold a rosebud,

This flower of God's design,

Then how can I have wisdom

To unfold this life of min?

- So I'll trust Him for His leading

Each moment of every day

And I"ll look to Him for His

Guidance

Each step of the pilgrim way.

- For the pathway that lies before 

me

My heavenly Father knows

I'll trust Him to unfold the 

moments

Just as He unfolds the rose."    - Anonymous

May Flowers - First Blush

Nothing is so beautiful as spring -

When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;

Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush

Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring

The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;

The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush

The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush

With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?

A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning

In Eden garden. -Have, get, before it cloy,

Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,

Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,

Most, O maid's child, thy choice and worth the winning.

~ Spring by Gerard Manley Hopkins

April showers indeed bring May flowers, and May is possibly the most glorious of all the months of the floral year.  Rose, Rhododendron, Clematis, Iris, Peony, Honeysuckly, Lily, and more; they all in turn burst forth in colored array, taking our breaths away as they revive our breath again with their sweet fragrances.                                                                     

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 This sweet little rose is Cleotilde Soupert, a small creamy white-to-soft pink cabbage rose.  It has 100 petals and a fine perfume.  The rose pictured above is also Cleotilde.  It has a hard time in humid weather (which we have), but it's worthwhile, for  Cleotilde is like having living porcelain in the garden.                                                                                                                                            

Yes, the Rhodie is really this brilliant!  It's bright fuchsia color is simply stunning.

Next to the Rhododendron is an equally brilliant Clematis combination.  I must confess that I don't remember the names of these two vines, but now that they are in their 3rd year, they are just remarkable.  When my Mother saw them, she commented that they looked like a silk floral arrangement.  These flowers are also pictured at the top of my Blog.This is a view overlooking Cleotilde, blooming Sage, and the Rhodie.  You can also see a Boxwood along with the PeeGee Hydrangea tree and Stella Del Oro Lilies which are both yet to bloom.Moving to the front yard, you can peek through foliage to see the white Azaleas in full bloom while the Sweet Pea rose is just beginning to pop.  In a later posting, I'll show you Sweet Pea in all her glory - so heavy with blooms that she is bent over.For now we'll end with the Thomas Affleck rose.  This rose, like all my roses are Texas Pioneer or Antique roses which can be found at the Antique Rose Emporium.  Check out their site and order their free catalog - you'll become an addict, too!  Here's a closer look at Thomas Affleck.  It's a semi-double bloom rose that was developed in Texas in the 18th century.  It's intense pink really pops in the garden, and it's fragrance is beautiful.  It's thornless, too!Thank you for strolling in the garden with me and enjoying the delights of Spring.  In the next couple of postings, we'll see more of the garden.  Springtime blessings to you!

After the Storm

"April showers bring May flowers."  

Showers?  In April?  In Tennessee?  Those of us who survive the spring storms to enjoy those May flowers (and we do) dearly wish we had those showers instead.  Springtime is stormtime here, and we sure get some rip-snorters.  

Here are a few photos following an Easter weekend storm that blew through and left a sparkling day in its wake.

Storm clouds bustle away to the south east.  I think the brilliant white of the Dogwood blossoms ties together earth and sky with the whiteness of the clouds.

Everything had a good cleansing shower, including these rain-slicked horses.

                                                                      Fresh and clean.

Water flowing from the hillside into the flatland of the valley.

Shadow and light with water under the bridge.  (We could develop a philosophy out of that, but I think we'll just enjoy the scenery!

Here We Go a'Maying

On May Morning

By John Milton

Now the bright morning Star, Day's harbinger,

Comes dancing from the East, and lead with her

The Flowery May, who from her green lap throws

The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose.Hail bounteous May that dost inspire

Mirth and youth, and warm desire,Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing,

Hill and Dale, doth boast thy blessing.Thus we salute thee with our early Song,

And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

More High Meadow Creatures

High Meadow has been overrun!  In our 17 years here, I've never seen soooo many caterpillars!  They are everywhere.  You can't take a step without encountering them which is really, really gross.  They're on fence rails, gate latches, door mats, you name it.  They seem especially drawn to water, so I guess they're at a very thirsty stage of development.  Fortunately, the organic pesticide I've used has kept them from my garden.  Time will tell whether they'll be butterflies or moths, but if they're butterflies we're in for a spectacular summer sight.  

                                              Caterpillar-go-round.

                                                     Marching, marching, marching.

                                                      Caterpillars with ladybug and spider.

It's tricky getting through the walk-through without getting caterpillars on you.  

                                             Horses and caterpillars.  

What Is It?

Something lurks beneath our feet.  On some days it's more apparent than on others, so on one of those more-revealing days, I captured the creatures with my camera.  Can you guess what they are?

Prehistoric fish nosing their way up to the surface of a murky bayou?  Mummified road-kill?  A gaping, large-mouthed sea serpent?  The remains of an antelope's head?  Images from a previous time left stamped in our own time?  

You tell me.

Highmeadow Blossoms and Easter Wings

In this posting, let's take a little tour of other blossoming flowers around the farm.  "Hope springs eternal" seems to be more believable in springtime itself, and "Easter Wings" tells us how.

This is the little blossoming branch of a young Peach tree that I found growing in the fence line last spring.  It's a very old wire fence, and the tree's roots are so enmeshed in the fence that I'll just try and train it up in it's place, rather than attempt uprooting it and damaging the tree.  I wonder how it came to be there?  We'll see what happens!

These are lovely, little Virginia Bluebells.  I bought them at GroWild Nursery in Fairview last spring, and when they disappeared during the summer, I thought they'd died.  But, surprise!  They reappeared better than ever!  I've now learned that they go dormant in summertime.  What a delightful little plant to look forward to each spring.

                                   Clouds and clouds of Dogwood blossoms.

"... th'violet embroidered vale ..."   ~ John Milton.    What a beautiful way to describe the hundreds upon hundred of wild Violets that lace there way through the grass.

                                              Wild Violet close-up.

Plain ol' Red Clover.  It's really a pretty little plant, I think, but boy, does it make the horses drooley!

Easter Wings 2 by George Herbert

My   tender   age   in    sorrow   did   begin:

       And still with sickness and shame

               Thou didst  so punish sin,

                       That    I   became

                             Most thin.

                             With thee

                        Let me  combine

                And feel this day thy victory:

      For, if   I   imp   my   wing   on   thine,

Affliction   shall   advance   the    flight   in  me.

Pear Blossom Study and George Herbert

Yes, I like George Herbert!  He's writes such amazingly beautiful poetry, and his poem entitled "Easter" is posted below.

Until just two days ago, a lone pear tree comprises our orchard.  There's now a young peach tree to accompany the pear, but until age and tornadoes took their toll, our orchard used to consist of an apple, peach, and plum tree.  So, slowly we rebuild. 

Last season, our pear tree bore prodigiously from August until a November freeze.  We ate pears, gave away pears, stored up pears, and gave the horses all the pears they could hope for.  Perhaps this abundance was recompense for the previous year when not one pear was borne due to a late spring killing frost.  This year, if the number of blossoms is any indicator, the horses will be feasting on pears once more.

                                            Pear blossoms on blue.

                                                              Pear blossom clouds.

                                                                                Bee's-eye view.

                                                Pear blossom swag.

Easter by George Herbert

Rise heart; thy Lord is risen.  Sing his praise

          Without delays.

Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise

          With him mayst rise:

That, as his death calcined thee to dust,

His life may make thee gold, and much more just.

Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part

          With all thy art.

The cross taught all wood to resound his name,

          Who bore the same.

His stretched sinews taught all strings, what key

Is best to celebrate this most high day.

COnsort both heart and lute, and twist a song

          Pleasant and long:

Or since all music is but three parts vied

          And multiplied,

O let thy blessed Spirit bear a part,

And make up our defects with his sweet art.

I got me flowers to straw thy way;

I got me boughs off many a tree:

But thou wast up by break of day,

And brough'st thy sweets along with thee.

The sun arising in the East,

Though he give light, and th'East perfume;

If they should offer to contest

With thy arising, they presume.

Can there be any day but this,

Though many suns to shine endeavor?

We count three hundred, but we miss:

There is but one, and that one ever.