A few real live plants. Growing outside in the garden. Amazing. Finally.

A few brave plants have decided that the worst is over.  They are peeking out into the world.  Hopefully they know what they're doing.  We are all ready.  So ready.

It's a start.

Snowy Days in April call for Magical Bunny Gardens, Definitely.

It's snowy, slushy, cold.  Just ridiculous outside.  So what to do?  Instead of a big woe-is-me moment, just make a magical garden for a little magical bunny.  Now who's ridiculous?

Company for Dinner

Last year I decided that I'd like to make friends with the crows in my neighborhood.  It has taken a while, but finally a pair of them have realized that I am a reliable source of all sorts of crow delicacies.  I have been trying to train them to come when I ring a bell.  But they seem to just come over and sit in the tree above me when they see me come outside.  The other morning they were pacing in the parkway at nine in the morning when I usually feed them.  As soon as they saw the door start to open, they flew up to the yard.  Didn't even get a chance to ring the bell.   

Crows are very intelligent.  They are naturally suspicious.  So when  I put the food out, they approach it slowly.  And although they are sitting in a tree directly above the coveted treat, they fly to the end of the fence and then walk back up the sections until they reach their goal.

I'm not sure where my fascination with crows comes from.  Maybe from a wonderful book I read as a child, The Tapestry Room by Mrs. Molesworth.  A book about a little girl, a pet crow and a magical garden entered through the tapestries.  Hmm.  Now I'm the one with the garden and the crows are coming to me. 

Welcome.  

  

Just a little something that caught my eye.

Life imitating other life.  Interesting. 

And no, I won't tell you what it is.  You have to guess.

Flora Twilby, Garden Slug, lives on

I once had a garden slug. 

Yes, I did.  I brought her back from a trip to Seattle.  She was brown, about 4 or 5 inches long.  (Slugs are difficult to measure.  They keep changing shape and they are very slimy.  So this is just a guesstimate.)  Daughter Safia named her Flora Twilby, which is a very good name for a slug.  We kept her in a fishbowl for about 9 months.  She ate a lot of lettuce and other vegetables and every once in a while she would shoot a slime ball out of a hole in her side.  I don't know why.  As far as slugs go, she was a great one.  And she inspired me to pick up a pencil and draw.  Her curvy, long lines.  Her little feelers.  Her slime.  Just beautiful.  That was a few years back.     

Flash forward to a snowy cold day a few weeks ago.  I was shopping at Mother Earth Gardens .  In the middle of winter it's such a boost to visit a garden shop.  The smells, (they say it's the organic fertilizer, but it smells good to me) the gorgeous green plants, the planters just waiting for the opportunity to cradle all sorts of succulents, ferns, whatever your heart desires.  

Then I noticed that they had a display of beautiful garden-themed greeting cards.  And I remembered my lovely slug card.  (No, I'm serious.  It's lovely.)  I offered to bring it in.  

So on another cold, snowy day I packed up my lovely slug card and a few of my faery cards too, and took them over.  

And I am so happy to announce that my cards are now at Mother Earth Gardens, Northeast. 

So Northeast neighbors, please stop in to see my cards and all the other wonderful things that whisper spring.

 

And if you'd like to see the faery cards, well, you'll just have to stop in.  

What to do with a long, long winter

The long winter.  How we all have complained and agonized over this magical force that has held us captive in our cottages.  But what can one do about the weather?  Accept it and make the most of the days stuck inside.  

I decided to use the my meteorological time-out to sit down in my studio and create.  I organized, completed, filed, folded teeny, tiny envelopes, and dug out drawings I hadn't seen for a while. . . . It felt wonderful.  And gave me the motivation to come back the next day and do even more.  As I worked,  I got ideas.  Lots of new ideas. 

And so it goes.  I find the best way to be creative is to get going and make something.  Sitting and thinking about making something doesn't usually bring out the best in our creativity.  Just do.  The rest will follow.  Of course with a little help from our muses.  Whoever they may be.  This guy's mine.

 

Believe.  Create.  Enchant.  

Wishing all my fellow travelers the most luscious of springs.

Wish. Wish. Wish.

When spring won't come to you . . .

When spring won't come to you, you just have to go to spring.  Spent some time cutting back leggy succulents, trimming the stems and planting them in fresh soil.  It was a treat to buy some new baby ones and incorporate them into the planters.  At least for today it kept the winter and its never-ending bitter winds at bay. 

A spring pie?  Good use of a pie pan without having to cook.  Looking forward to taking another photo in a month to see just how much progress they make.  The daylight grows longer every day and the plants are getting the hint that it might be time to wake up.  Fingers crossed for these little ones. 

Branches

The snow is deep.  Above my knees when I venture into the yard to explore the snow, the ice, the branches.  Although I am a bit averse to getting snow all over my jeans, I couldn't resist investigating what was happening with the trees as the sun hit all those tenacious clumps of snow just hanging on.  So I waded in.  When I got back inside, I had fun just playing with the shapes, the light as it filtered through the maze of snowy tentacles and small ice crystals.  Yes, spring will come with all its flowers and green and vibrant colors.   For now we'll just have to settle for branches.  

Well, branches and a marble.

Don't Give Up

This has been a very challenging winter here in Minnesota.  And then, some hope.  Two days in a row over 40 degrees.  But wait, what is this?  A snowstorm brewing, the worst of the season?   Followed by a return of the vortex?  Yes, it's discouraging, but for today, a snow day, the world is so very beautiful.  Calming.  Quiet.  The brilliant clean white snow against dark tree bark.  I love the random patterns of the criss-crossing branches.  The gentle surrender of the overladen trees.  

The fairy crowns are drooping a bit today.  Not a judgment, just an observation.

I took this photo of the crows.  But the glowing branch at the top of the frame is a bit puzzling.  Enchantment at work?  I'll go with that.

Working title: Isolation