THAT DIRT I LOVE....

 "There's something satisfying about getting your hands in the soil....." - E.A. Bucchianeri

 For the Love of Dirt............

 A good way to spend that time we have to Stay at Home these days.

Simon

 Time to destroy the rotten benches and planters. 

 And put together new ones.

 Hauled out everything from the greenhouse. Except the Toilet.  Repurposed.

 Pine Siskins  hang around the bird feeders.

 To be caught and fed to Stellar Jay babies.

"The soil in the great connector, the healer and restorer and resurrector...." -Wendell Berry, Culture and Agriculture.

 Sweet peas . Hoarded from various sources. soaked and ready. 

 Stuffed into as many basins as I can find. Sinks, pots, troughs, baskets.

 "Sweet peas were the kinds of flowers fairies slept in..."
-Allison Pearson

 And in the dirt of the greenhouse .....It's only just begun.

 And the sun sets, while we still wait and Stay at home.

 Another new bench ready. Spencer's yellow cup waits for him.

 Out of the dirt rises more white bleeding hearts. I thought they had become squashed over winter. Resilient......

 "There's a sunrise and a sunset every single day, and they're absolutely free. Don't miss so many of them..." - Jo Walton

 The violets were definitely squashed in the snow. Resilient. They've popped up. Just like WE will pop up. Out of the dirt. That I love......

"A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon..."
              -John Steinbeck ( Grapes of Wrath)

 Photographs 2020

*After a long winter, Cordelia rises to the fence once again. She is  a VERY old girl by now, but she still manages to get to the top of the fence. To have a look. To say hello... Resilient.

I Dream of Dirt.....

I want to stuff seeds into the dirt. I want to see beans  flourish. Flowers tumble. I want to stuff seeds into dirt, till I can stuff no more. I want to plant my greenhouse with things that grow.

 I want to weed the dirt. Then plant the seeds, that turn into beans, that turn into flowers. First  I must  cut up liners for wire baskets.And dream of the seeds that will turn into beans.......I just want to stuff seeds into dirt.

 It's a little too cold for Cordelia, who hides behind the fence on the hill. She sniffs the chilly wind.

But not too cold for fog  on the ocean.

I want to stuff seeds into  dirt, that will grow.....

 Instead I join Spencer outside on a cool, sunny day. He always finds sun. He's not interested in seeds.

 Smokey's paws twitch in the  sun. He dreams of flying with the birds. I dream of dirt.

 And the mountain is foggy and misty and runny with snow. I miss the dirt. And the worms that wibble and wobble.

  Spencer dreams of being king . I still dream of stuffing things into pots of dirt.

  All I can do is  be patient. I'm not good at that.

 My  baskets are done. Hung  in the greenhouse.  I can sense the dirt underfoot. This time of year it smells wonderful. Crisp. Fresh. Wormy . Loamy. Bugs are starting to squoosh out of holes.

 Dale's old truck, broken and heat scorched , lies in the mud and rain.

 Gets me motivated to repurpose and reuse and renew. Time to redecorate. The toilet gets a makeover. ( Don't worry, that's just mud.......I think.)

 Spencer wakes from his nap. Peers into the greenhouse. He likes the greenhouse.

 He sees the toilet. Stuffed with a pot of dirt. Finally. I get to play in the dirt.

 Cordelia emerges, at last, from the fence. Sits on her Moai , once again, like she does when the season changes.

 And the mountain rumbles and grumbles overhead.

 Lion Mane  appears, after five months absence. Bigger and poofier than ever.She's more interested in watching the chickens next door peck in the dirt. Ahhhhhh, dirt.

 The sky  clouds over. The light recedes.

 The rocks in the ocean thrash  and rattle as the tides pull in.

 And the sun goes down again. Spencer drapes himself hopefully over the bench. He waves his paws elegantly. He is cute. And he knows it.     I dream of dirt.........

 "I hope a couple of birds will nest around the house. I'll do my best to make them happy, so every years they'll raise their brood of fledglings here...While I follow the sun, while I drift and roam to the ends of the earth like a chip on the stream. " ( Don Blanding 1894-1957 "Vagabond's House")

THE PORCH

 I just couldn't wait any longer. The weather's stable. The flowers are  sitting patiently in their flats. More patient than I am.  I lined them up  to have a look.Checked the dirt in the pots. Lovely, it even has worms squiggling about in the grainy depths.  Counted the begonias. It was time......

 The porch. A gathering place. A place to sit. And write. Or have a snooze. If you are a cat. Penguin was there before the flowers went in. He didn't stay to see the dirt fly.

 The flats were ready. Waiting.

 Even Cordelia sat in her window in the greenhouse. The anticipation mounting. The dirt will be flying.  She knew.

 Spencer and Smokey also knew to stay well away from the hub and bub.   They watched Cordelia, watching them, watching Penguin on the Porch.

 Up till today, the greenhouse has been a collecting point for as many flats as I could cram inside. I bought them one by one, little by little. And now it's time. Knee pads, trowel, hat, gloves, buckets, fertilizer.......

 Baskets stuffed with Tuber Begonias. They will get big and lovely and last and last till October in the shade. The porch will look friendly again. Not empty , like it does all winter, as if it were a black and white photograph. Now it will be in colour.And Lobelia, with Impatiens added; not one of my favourites. But  inexpensive and they spread. And I loved the name of the variety I found: "Super Elfin Lipstick". How could anyone pass that by? The dirt loved it.

The little pots from the flats were flying around, as they were tossed into the recycling bucket. Smokey was wary of all the flying plastic pots. They weren't birds, he thought, I'm sure. The posts were stuffed  not only Begonias, but sweet peas. Sounds crazy, I know. Sweet peas are meant for sun, but I've found  they grow REALLY well on the porch, or in other shady areas, as long as it is warm, and protected.

 And Fuschias. So many varieties: Display,La Campanella,Dollar Princess,Millenium,Dark Eyes,Miss California, Blue Eyes, Swing Time, and Ringwood Market. Who would think that fuschias have so many names. So easy to grow in a  moist, partial shady spot. 

 And then the bench was empty . Till tomorrow. Till the next batch will be placed out to plant. But not on the porch. There are other pots to plant. Other places where dirt is bare and just scream for flowers . I must have dirt. More and more of it to plant. The porch is ready. The stage is set. The Dirt is calling......