For a a very long time, and for no reason good enough to fathom, I didn’t like red-hot pokers. I’d see them on our Portland ambles and regard them with disdain. Silly me, because, as I have obviously come to know, they are pretty fabulous. Hummingbirds and bees love them, too! Since the garden is in its nascent stage, I only have four of them in blossom at the moment, which, truth be told, looks kind of sad. On their own, however, smiling for the camera, they are right gorgeous. This one is T A L L, too, nearly as tall as I am! Insert snickers about my height here, but that’s darned impressive for a flower.
This is a volunteer something or other. I’ll let you know if it produces anything edible!
Testament to our Portland-esque weather as of late – there are scads of mushrooms all around the town, these being the finest specimens.
The lily pond at our local park is also in fine form. So many blossoms!
Practically perfect Palisade peach pie. Homemade! For my Portland peeps, the Palisade peach has the same gravitas as a Hermiston Melon. So, you know, deeelicious.
We rise at the same hour of the day, witnessing the changing of the season, darker and darker we go. What a sweet reward to ascend the wee hills of Palmer Park to witness the splendor of morning. How I love the light!
This past weekend, we spent a busy Saturday up north, enjoying brunch with my parents, games and treats with my Grandpa, and an adorable Wonder Woman birthday party for my cousin’s sixth birthday. I brought my camera, of course, but bumps along the road turned it on and drained my battery. I had this perfect frame, my sweet cousin giddy at the sight of a cascade of bubbles, but could not take the shot. I was heart sick – a wonderful moment and nothing to show for it. After I fretted for a bit about it, I realized it was a gift. Rather than dashing around the party, trying to get the perfect shot, I sat happily in one place, still-like and very present. I heard all the whoops and hollers; crunches of chips and bites of cake; the splash of water; and voices – of children, parents, family, and friends. How lucky I was not to have missed it.
