My blog friend Juliet of Seasonal Inspirations in New Zealand just did a post about the repetition inherent in a blog about the changing seasons. It's Autumn in NZ and she and her friends are digging sweet potatoes, (See her post HERE.) I thought of her when I went out the basement door to fill the bird feeder and saw that the glorious white iris was blooming again.
Every year, it kind of bowls me over -- the way the sun shines through the petals, the play of light and shadow . . .
And every year I take pictures -- probably indistinguishable from those of the year before . . .
And then I go out the next day and there are more blooms . . .
And the sun is catching the red barberry leaves just so . . .
And a pair of blooms are unfolding in a stately pas de deux . . .
And the curves and shapes and shades and shadows are so delicious . . .
And I take more pictures . . . for my annual ode to the white iris just outside the basement door.
The days aren't long enough for all I want to do -- just a few quick pictures here: a bearded iris and a shy garter snake like a folded ribbon . . .
I wish I knew what this odd iris is -- a bearded iris? It has the right form -- the three upright standards and the three falls. But it's much smaller than other bearded irises and has, somehow, a more primitive look to it. Does anyone have a clue?
And here are the mommas and babies. If you click on the picture, it will take you to a web album where it will be a little video of them all bustling about.
This is the story: Justin and Claui have four banty hens in their chicken tractor. One of the girls decided she wanted to be a mother and began brooding a clutch of eggs. But, as there is no rooster in with these girls, her brooding was doomed to failure.
So Justin took four eggs from our Ameracuanas -- who share their coop with a fine Buff Orpington rooster that delights in making sure that their eggs are fertile -- and put them under the broody hen.
Twenty-one days later, three eggs hatched and she was a mama. But the other three hens, several of which had tried to sit on the eggs too, were pretty sure that they were mamas too.
At this point, Justin and Claui can no longer be sure which hen was the original broody. The bantys seem happy to share the chicks. And the chicks always have a mama handy to hide under.
In the herb garden, the sage is blooming and fat bumble bees wiggle their way deep into the blossoms.
The box beds were full of weeds which have outdone themselves with all the rain. I filled a tub to take to the big chickens and threw a wad of crisp green chickweed to the banties -- along with assorted slugs, earthworms, and wood lice.
Across the road from the garden I spotted a clump of Blue-eyed Grass.
This tiny (the bloom is about the size of my little finger's nail) wild flower is a member of the iris family and though not exactly showy is utterly charming.
