I wanted to watch birds–maybe take a photo, or ten–but the birds weren’t interested.  I’d heard them when I was inside, so came outside to watch.

The birds absconded from my garden.  They retired from their aerial runway for that evening.

As I sat, photographically dejected, I observed this Ghost plant, Graptopetalum paraguayense, charming rosettes all cheery and eager for attention, just a few feet away.

Succulent succulence.

There’s something pure spring about the green of this plant.  As I was pondering the lack of spring bird migration (that’s been a thing this year), I was rewarded with the company of these lush, friendly, spring-like plants.  Interestingly, Ghost plants show a range of coloring–green, to grey, to tinged with pink–depending upon sun exposure and time of year.  I grow quite a few ghosts, popped thoughtlessly in various pots around my garden; they’re stupidly easy to grow.

This crew sits in morning sun and next to a bench–the bench where I watch birds.

Or is it the bench where I appreciate ghosts?

Today, I’m joining in with Anna’s Wednesday Vignette for springtime, and all kinds, of musings.



Late one afternoon, bordering on early evening, I sat for a few minutes to watch birds.  The day was settling down and the sun, while bright, was low on the horizon.  Pollinators and birds were active as they wrapped up the day.

Spring migration in underway and the pond in my back garden is a draw for weary feathered travelers to rest, bathe, and drink.  I’ve only observed a few migratory birds so far this spring: some Orange-crowned warblers, a few American Goldfinches, one or two Lincoln Sparrows.  Still, one never knows what the garden will offer.

This particular evening, the garden offered up an alien–a little green guy.

Running along the top of the fence, he pause, listened, then dashed under the cover a twining vine.  I lost him for a minute, then he peeked out from the foliage and gave me the stink eye.  This little green fella, this Green AnoleAnolis carolinensis, was out and about and on the hunt.  Afterall, it was dinnertime.

Just after this shot, he darted into the body of the vine.  Shortly afterwards, I saw him smack his mouth in satisfaction, presumably after eating something, or someone:  bee, or moth, or beetle–only the little green anole knows.

He didn’t lick his chops, but he might as well have.

Joining in today with Anna’s Flutter and Hum and her wonderful Wednesday Vignette.  Please pop over for garden, nature, and other musings.



The Hub and I cleaned the pond this past weekend.  While unnecessary for the health of an aquatic environment (pond scum smell isn’t the least bit off-putting for the fish, plants, or insects), we start anew each spring with a thorough cleaning.  Occasionally, we’ve skipped the chore in favor of other demands.

Fish were removed and stored in containers for the day; water was drained into the gardens, which love the rich liquid;  lilies and bog plants were separated, then re-potted; leaves and pond-bottom gunk was scooped out, bucketed, and dumped into the compost bin.  The aquatic environment is now refreshed and renewed for a year of lush growth.

After the work–it’s a long day–I photographed the less foliage-covered, fresh watered pond.  I’m struck by what this shot shows.

Aside from the beauty and diversity that a pond (clean or otherwise) brings to a garden, what caught my imagination was representations of the traditional, though unscientific, four elements of the Western world: Earth, Air, Fire, Water.

Water:  it ripples and supports pond life. To the left of the photo, unseen, is the waterfall.  The force of the waterfall, combined with whatever breeze exits, moves the water across the pond, in gentle, incessant movement. 

Air:  the rippled water reflects the blue sky and white clouds.   In Air, but part of Earth, the overhanging trees are mirrored in the Water, bookending the clouds and sky.

Earth: limestone rocks border the pond.  These rocks are from the cemetery where our lily/our daughter, Shoshana, rests, and are as solid and permanent as our love for her.  The three pond lilies also rest–under water–which breathes life in each; rocks hug that source of life.

Fire: of a sort, in the sparkling Texas sun as its rays reach, and touch, Water.

Joining in today with Anna’s Flutter and Hum and her wonderful Wednesday Vignette.  Please pop over for garden, nature, and other musings.