It’s that fleeting week in May when the ditches and bogs bloom in golden pools of Marsh Marigold. When we’re driving Rt 77 between Hayward and Minong, I always think we should stop and get a picture. But we’re habitually focused on our destination and who has time?
I put the house plants out on the front deck so that God can keep them watered since I know it’s going to be three weeks till I can. Two child Adirondacks, pulled out of storage, needed a place to be and lo the cabin front door is decorated for summer. It happened almost by itself. Next time we come up I’ll be bringing the usual hanging pot of flowers to complete it.
And finches. I haven’t watched birds long enough to know it this is an unusual show of finches or not but I’m properly astonished. Maybe, I had the impression that you have to go to the tropics to see brightly colored birds. My mistake. Besides, “eating like a bird”, takes on a different meaning this week.
Stone House Scribblings 