God's in his Heaven, All's right with the world

God's in his Heaven, All's right with the world

The year's at the spring,

And day's at the morn;

Morning's at seven:

The hill-side's dew-pearl'd;

The lark's on the wing;

The snail's on the thorn:

God's in his Heaven---

All's right with the world!

from Pippa's Song by Robert Browning

How beautiful our weather has been after such a long and dreary winter. Everyone has been about the business of readying life for the coming of summer.  This happy groundhog was caught tidying up his hole while I saw glimpses of another close by. There will be lots of groundhogs this summer with huge appetites for the vegetables in my garden.

When I looked out of the window this morning, I discovered that one of the poles holding our bird feeders was bent nearly to the ground.  It looks like our black bear is out of hibernation too.
                                                                                                                                                                


The fox squirrels are delighted that the sunflower seeds are so easy to reach.

The faint white splotches are giant snowflakes, winter's reminder that it lingers long in these mountains.

On Sunday, my husband and I took a walk through the woods to look for signs of spring.  The nights are still very cold here, and there's little new growth.  We found round lobed hepatica leaves and soon there will be delicate, lavender flowers. Farther up the mountain, patches of snow remain while the green mosses give a preview of the warm, growing season ahead.
                                                         

A locust tree supports a burl.  Why these bumps develop on tree trunks is a bit of a mystery.  While many believe they occur in response to an injury or an invasion by a plant pathogen, no specific cause has been determined.  Because of the unusual grain patterns created by these growths, they are a woodworker's delight. 

The morning sun warms the cozy home of a chipmunk.

These are the remnants of an old road that once went from the gap between the mountains and travelled downward to ford the river below.  It was named for the Seneca Indians whose trail passed through the area going from upper New York to deep into Georgia. My Dad once told me that when he was a boy, the mailman would leave the mail in their box which was located at the point where the gap began. In the spring, when he had baby chicks to deliver, the mailman would tie his horse to the post and walk a quarter of a mile, over to my grandfather's house to deliver his delicate package.
    Today, the road disappears just ahead under the fill of a four lane highway. Below it, there is bulldozing as someone prepares what looks to be another campground.  With the city water coming to serve all of those who, unlike the old-timers, built their houses for the view rather than near a water source, over-development looms ominously.  The local road that replaced this old one in 1931 was also known as the Seneca Pike.  It  has now been renamed after a nearby tourist attraction

After savoring each wonderful moment and being renewed by the warmth and beauty of the walk, we arrived home to hear the welcome "quacking" of the wood frogs happily mating in our daughter's small molded pond. The frogs with bandit faces testify that spring is here.

Winter Yesterday, Spring Today

 Today, I made my first trip to the garden. I have been viewing its snowy blanket for many weeks now, but with most of snow melted, little bits of green are appearing. My first stop was beside one of the Lenten roses (H. orientalis) which never fail to have blossoms hidden beneath the deepest snow.

Our area is so cold and snowy that the "Christmas rose" (H. niger) usually makes its appearance alongside the Lenten rose.(H. orientalis).   When I looked for it, there it was beneath the apple tree with ivory buds ready to open. While the hellebore is not a native plant, it adds such a cheerfulness to the winter garden with its hardy green leaves and its promise that new life can occur even in the coldest, dreariest, and most desolate of times.  As a cancer survivor, I especially appreciate this symbolism.

This was the view on February 26, just 19 days ago.

How amazing is this beautiful earth with its gardens

patterned by nature!  No matter what the season

the wonder of it all never ceases.

A Hint of Approaching Spring

Every morning when I awake, I look out my bedroom window. In the summer, I enjoy each tiny bit of color as my garden shares its blooms. In winter, I stand amazed by the fluttering of wings as birds delight at the feeders. Today held a reminder that winter will not last forever. Red Winged Blackbirds had stopped on their way to their summer homes and were waiting for their turn at our wildlife restaurant. They dotted the apple tree like black ornaments on a child's Easter egg tree.

Then the most amazing thing happened. While enjoying my cup of coffee, I saw a red fox making its way along a trail created in the snow by deer. It boldly came towards our house and walked on down our driveway to the road. This is the first fox I've seen in many years. Poor management of the deer herd to appease the tourism industry has changed the plant life in our woods. The prevailing species are now ferns and invasives like barberry; plants that deer find unpalatable. This in turn caused habitat destruction for many of the smaller animals upon which the fox preys. The result has been a greatly diminished number of foxes.