Posted by: morrowsl | April 24, 2019

These Little Wonders

I think I have been rushing Spring almost since the last of the New Year revelry died down. I am in no hurry for summer to arrive with its hot dry days and breezeless nights. Instead, I have been anxiously awaiting the first green leaves in the canopies around our house and the fresh scent of new blossoms in our flowerbeds.

Winter seemed to want to hang around this year. We would get a warming trend that was almost, but not quite, spring. Then a front would blow in and we were plunging back into almost freezing nights. I would take the walls off the coop in the morning only to hang them back up in the late afternoon. It seemed I would never get to take down the tarps. And forget a good power washing!

When we finally did start the warm up, there was a rush to get so much done. We needed to protect our garden with a good gate. Then we needed to supplement our garden soil with something to help break up the clay soil. The spot for the meadow had to be sited and scraped and seeded. The compost bin had to be relocated. The tractor needed repair.

The list has been endless.

To add misery to the mix, Mother Nature has been on a watering kick. As soon as the temperatures started coming up, our Spring weather pattern emerged. Dark green, deep red, and bright magenta on the radar are a North Texan’s signal colors for heavy rainfall, severe storms, and large hail. The entrance to the chicken run floods. Ruts appear in the driveway. Water stands in all the depressions. Standing water means the incessant buzz of mosquitos. West Nile. Malaria. Armageddon!
I appreciate the fullness of our little lake. But I’m not so sure we need to meet our peak annual rainfall in one season.

In between, we have managed to get some much-needed work completed. The garden has been planted for about a month. The beds around the chicken run are filling up. The meadow and butterfly gardens are sprouting. We’ve had to mow twice already.
I try to get outside first thing most mornings. I walk the porch from end to end, moving things that the wind, or nightly four-footed visitors, relocates. I check for signs that last year’s perennial additions are emerging. I watch to make sure nothing is being dug up or eaten or otherwise destroyed.

A few weeks ago, in the middle of a warm up that wasn’t really all that warm, I spotted a frog, or possibly a toad, warming itself in the bright sunshine. The wind was biting cold and incessant. But, in the sheltered spots, the sun was warm enough. I watched for a good while, just to see if he (or she) would move on. Not only did it not climb back down from its little perch, it never even shifted!
Just before I went back inside for the day, I checked and found the limb abandoned.


Initially, I though it was a flower bud.


It never moved an inch.


I think it may have been snoozing.


And it had a grip the wind couldn’t budge.

I do hope I see my little friend in the flowerbeds again.

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