Tiny wild gardens

You need to look close to appreciate the special magic of many winter gardens. This ruffled, frilly beauty is growing in the far corner of our east meadow, on a sumac branch about the size of a broom handle, a perfect miniature bouquet of pale lichen leaves, feathery green tendrils, and tiny orange flowers--well, not actually leaves and flowers, but look-alikes. A raccoon has stripped the fruit from the sumac and a white-tailed buck has rubbed the trunk raw, leaving his mark for other bucks to notice. A little farther along the path, a coyote has deposited some furry torpedo-shaped scat, the remains of a meal of mouse or vole; some deer have matted down the dry grass in a perfect circle; and at the corner near the old workshop, the feral cat who lives underthe woodpile has scraped up a heap of grass to cover her leavings. The meadow must be a busy place at night, when we're asleep and nobody's watching. Tiny gardens, invisible nocturnal animals--some of the loveliest things are the hardest for humans to see.

Many thanks to all who sent well-wishes for Zach. We've started him on a drug therapy, Ketaconzole 200 mg. 2x a day. The vet says vomiting and loss of appetite are the two major side-effects. If you've had experience of this drug and know of anything else we should watch for, drop me a line. So far (two days) he's tolerating it well.

I'm leaving for the Story Circle conference tomorrow, so don't look for blog posts here until early next week.

Reading note: This is the paradox of the familiar: the more you know a place, or think you know it, the more it can take you where you do not expect.--William DeBuys

Comments

[Judy]

I have searched for and been enchanted with these "tiny wild gardens" since childhood. I can remember one of the first ones that I found. Thanks for the reminder. Lovely pictures. Good thoughts coming your way.

[Debi Bowers]

I enjoy these meditative walks you share and your clarity of vision, seeing so much, opening our eyes to the world around us. Thank you.

Looking forward to a weekend of writing. My friend, Eleanor and I will join you at the pre-conference workshop tomorrow. See you then.

[Susan J Tweit]

Susan,

Thanks for your lichen garden, and the verbal picture of your path and all the signs left by your wild neighbors. Your world seems at once familiar and foreign to me here in my high-desert valley with the snow-mantled peaks of the Rockies all around.

Enjoy the Story Circle Conference - may it be wonderfully inspiring!

Susan