The Birds of the Air

Always looking for more color in my life--including in my garden, the last several years I’ve prayed for goldfinches to come to my home. Their bright yellow bodies make them some of the most colorful birds in our area but less common than red cardinals, and blue jays. Once, I told an elderly lady who loved birds of my prayer. She retorted, “Well, if you’re going to pray for them to come you’d better have something for them to eat!” They did come. Every year. And they had plenty to eat among the seeded grasses in the back of our apartments.

I recently prayed for goldfinches to come to our new home though they usually come in autumn. But then I remembered the admonition to provide food. Oops, no tall, seeded grasses here.  “Oh well, Lord I’ll leave that to you.” This week, they came! They perched atop my bamboo stakes but I couldn’t grab my camera fast enough without startling them. Today however, I prayed, “Please let me get some pictures before they dart away.” Prayer answered. I did. Not only did I get pictures but I found who’s been eating my zinnia petals. I had unknowingly helped the Lord provide food for the goldfinches when I planted several varieties of zinnias.  I’d been leaving the older flowers in place for their color though deadheading them might have made a few more flowers. Now I know. Go for it goldfinches I have plenty—be my guests.

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Matthew 6:26

Basil My Way

When I couldn’t readily find organic basil plants, I planted my own organic seeds (that I happily came across at a big box store); now they’re up and growing well! I suppose I can move the “garden sculptures” back into their places throughout the garden since the seeds are now no longer potential bird food. I’m not yet seeing any bursts of growth from last week’s fertilizer application. Gardening requires—and builds patience. My computer is acting up so if you don’t see any posts—pray for it to work again. Don’t give up on me, Lord willing, I’ll be back soon.

Doing Instead of Dreading

Ah, it feels good to sit down in the garden! I’ve just finally fertilized my balcony garden-instead of dreading it, I did it. Though the fertilizer is organic, it doesn’t smell as bad this time (a mixture of things I don’t even want to read). I didn’t get around to fertilizing the pots in front; I startled a bird—a mutual feeling, when I opened the front door a few minutes ago and discovered to my dismay that it was building a nest in my hanging basket. The purple sweet potato vine and mini sun coleus were already mashed down and suffering from Mr. & Mrs. Bird’s stash of skeletonized leaves. I hated to undo their hard work but dive-bombing us any time we open or close the door or water the plants won’t do. I’m glad I discovered the plan before it was too late. I carefully placed their building materials where they could find them and start again somewhere else. I also did the dreaded red hibiscus pruning today. Hibiscuses bloom mostly on new growth—the stem ends, so I needed to make more ends to make more blooms. It was getting lanky and the one long branch caught the wind the other night and caused the plant to fall over on several other plants. It was time.

One Way or Another

My search through the local garden centers for an organic basil plant was fruitless and we haven’t had time to make the trek to the distant multi-vendor farmers’ market so I bought a packet of organic basil seed. Though I’m getting a late start and the packet instructions say that it will be seventy days until harvest, I’ve decided that it’s better to grow organic (though I confess I gave in on the golden oregano and hope for the best). Perhaps with judicious fertilizing (too much and the flavor disappears), the seedlings will grow quickly. To keep the birds from breakfasting on the seed, I’ve temporarily clustered my mini garden sculptures (aka silly straws) to crowd them out. But then again, they may just use them as handy perches; if so, I’ll pull out my seed packet and plant again.

Prodigal?

This morning as I opened the blinds I saw a young bird (a birdling?) perched on the edge of my birdbath. It looked around furtively then, apparently assured that no one was watching, jumped into the water for a quick bath and flew out again as quickly. Then it caught sight of me watching through the slats and flew toward me, grasping the screen in its feet and clinging there—not very far from my face; I was glad for the window in between! What did it want? Was it trying to get in? The little wren looked frightened. I worried about it. Was it sick or injured? I didn’t know, but I prayed and was reminded that Jesus said that not even a sparrow falls to the ground without his Father knowing it. And you know, other than being hunted by cats or crashing into reflective skyscrapers, I’ve rarely seen a dead bird along my way. The Lord assured me that he takes care of little Carolina Wrens too. The bird was still clinging to the screen when I came back for the camera—a seemingly long time for the odd angle. After a bit, it flew under the eaves and hunched against the wall. That seemed like progress but it still looked like a fugitive. I finally went about my other business, being concerned that if I opened the door to go out to the garden, the bird would change places with me. The next time I looked, it hopped from plant to plant, hopefully eating unwelcome bugs—definitely a good sign! A little later, I heard a chiding sound much like that of a squirrel reprimanding a cat; it was a mother wren. She hopped about with her strained cry, looking all around for her runaway. Don’t ask me mama wren; I have no idea where your baby has gone so don’t fuss at me.

Surprise!

What a surprise the dove had when he/she landed on my balcony railing and came face-to-face with me! I was definitely surprised but recovered more quickly. The dove immediately flew back to its mate in the tree and they both hastily departed. Too bad, I like doves. I’ve heard somewhere that doves mate for life. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology says, “When taking off, their wings make a sharp whistling or whinnying.” http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Mourning_Dove/id All this time I had wondered if the sound came from the exotic throat of a misplaced tropical bird!

The honeysuckle fragrance surrounded me like a romantic novel as I planted new additions in the garden. The air had a peaceful feel, that is, until it suddenly swarmed with white-winged black insects! They liked my hair, my clothes, everything—except the buckets of plant water. I nearly swatted myself silly but they finally diminished and gave up. The empty pot among the herbs (2nd picture) awaits basil. I wish I had it today for my open-faced avocado sandwich but I do have golden oregano.

Gardener’s Friend

Look what I found! Can you see it? It’s an earthworm, one of a gardener’s greatest friends—in a pot on a second floor balcony! I found it when turning up the soil for planting (yes, even potting soil can benefit from loosening up) and was glad I didn’t damage it in the process, though they can grow back missing parts—given the right conditions. I hope it hides well so the birds don’t make lunch of it.

I found some interesting facts about earthworms on this site:http://urbanext.illinois.edu/worms/facts/index.html , such as, they eat their weight everyday—I hate to think about the 22 foot long earthworm found in South Africa! Earthworms have to have the right conditions, this site says, or “they’ll go somewhere else” so my garden must measure up. But what do they eat? If they live near the surface they eat fallen leaves and dead grass, especially the bacteria that live on such organic matter but when they live in deeper dirt—they eat dirt! http://www.professorshouse.com/Your-Home/Gardening-Plants/General/Articles/What-Do-Worms-Eat/


Yesterday’s orange hibiscus finally opened—here’s a picture of the colorful orange beauty with it's magenta throat. It’s still open today in the early afternoon though the edges of the petals are curling. Even fleeting beauty is still beauty.

Comeback

Last year’s white petunias are merrily blooming again with their newer Johnny Jump Up roommates. Most of them can stay beautiful for awhile before the slugs get them.

I’ve often read that stale beer is just the thing to slow down the slimy creatures so they can be caught…hmmm, you just don’t think of slugs being fast, but we’re not beer drinkers and there are children around who might get too curious. Or the neighborhood cat. I’ve heard of birds eating such inebriated insects and becoming a bit tipsy themselves--flying under the influence. No, a different remedy will have to be found. Meanwhile, there are plenty flowers for all to enjoy.

Today’s weather was forecast to be sunny with a high of 78 degrees but it’s been cloudy and nowhere near the balmy high. Brrr…I’ve had to put on a heavier sweater.

Sooner or Later

The majority of the states in the U.S. turned all clocks forward an hour for Daylight Savings Time on Saturday night—technically early Sunday morning for those who stayed up that late. Everyone I talked to feels a mild jet lag—that is, if they knew about it (if you don’t watch the news you can be an hour off for awhile).

While I’m not happy about having my circadian rhythm thrown off twice a year—“spring forward; fall back,” I had the advantage this morning of being at the window just as the sun shone its pink rays, and I will definitely enjoy having more daylight at the end of the day. The mornings will catch up soon.

Over the weekend while on our errands we saw rows and rows of Bradford Pears in full bloom, yellow forsythia, even my favorite—redbuds, were beginning their beautiful fuchsia show.

A mockingbird came to visit the balcony garden this morning but I didn’t have my camera in hand so I stayed and watched it flip its tail up and down several times before flying away. Sometimes it’s better to be present in the moment than to risk missing it while grabbing the camera.

Are We There Yet?

The daffodils have bloomed for weeks; the flowering crab trees are covered with diaphanous pale red-violet blossoms—on a recent night I saw some surreal-looking ones with light-wrapped trunks. Today’s the second day with temperatures in the mid-70’s. The birds think it’s spring. Who am I to argue with the birds?

However, yesterday’s happy chatter has turned to nervous twitters. The birds know that the weather isn’t right. We’re under a tornado watch all day. I don’t wish it on anyone else but I don’t want it here either. Please pray.

Birdsong

I’ve finally found a way to identify all the lovely birdsong I hear around my garden; the singers aren’t always visible since they’re often hidden by bushes. A website, birdjam.com has fairly long selections of various bird songs. I found my avian friends by clicking on the picture that is labeled “City Birds”. The song I’ve often written of sounding like a swing screeching as it turns on its bar turns out to be the signature of the tiny black-capped chickadee. The “cheer-up” singer is the American Robin; robins also seem to have a “swing-screeching” call.

To some this may seem fundamental—why would a gardener and general lover of creation not know these things? We had cats while I was growing up. The more stalwart blue jays weren’t thwarted though and occasionally swooped down and pecked the cats’ heads just to make sure they knew who was boss.

Surprising Places

I generally expect new growth to come from the end of a plant’s stem but happily, this prayer plant is sprouting new growth from the base, giving the plant more fullness. It’s also a hopeful sign philosophically in that new growth in life and character can pop up in places you don’t expect. That encourages my heart.

Earlier, as many as eight or ten blue jays congregated on the deciduous tree (mulberry?) beyond the balcony! Amazing! I’m not used to seeing blue jays in flocks; I thought they were all males but I found a neat site:all-birds.com that says both male and female are “blue above with a crest, and a black necklace.” The site also has a place to click to hear the blue jay’s call (very cool), which mimics the hawk’s.

I could surely use some sunshine this gray day but I’ll have to look for it in the Lord’s presence instead of from the sun. Funny, as soon as I wrote that, the sun started showing itself. It is, after all, God’s servant.

Singing in the Sun

The natural area is atwitter this morning with crows, cardinals, blue jays and mockingbirds plus smaller unseen birds. A dog somewhere in the distance joined in as did a really big silver bird. They seem to like the warm sunny morning as much as I do.

Though too small to photograph, I found in the outdoor garden two Sweet William buds! The cherry trees in Washington D.C. are even beginning to blossom it’s so warm! No matter what the groundhogs “say”, spring is here now so I’ll enjoy it now, though winter could return at any time. Generally though, later when spring truly comes, cold weather doesn’t mean that it’s not spring since it’s normal for the temperatures to see-saw.

Starting Small

A mockingbird came to visit my outdoor garden this morning then joined a flock flying around the small trees in the natural area. I heard again the bird call that sounded like the screeching of a swing as it rides its bar; circumstantial evidence would attach the sound to the mockingbirds but I couldn’t be sure. Are any of you birders? What bird makes that sound?

The prayer plant baby has more leaves and one more has spots! Another has the slightest shadow of the spots to come.

The prayer plant gets its name from its habit of folding its leaves upward at night—like praying hands. I don’t mean to force this comparison but it came to mind naturally as I watered this morning; just as these baby prayer plant leaves will become larger and stronger, prayers to God can start small and as you pray more, they’ll likely get stronger and larger as you stay with it and get to know him. You can start where you are*.

*Simple heart-felt prayers such as, “Help me Jesus!” and “Thank you Jesus!” carry a lot of weight in heaven.

Harmony

What an amazing sight! This morning as many as four male blue jays perched in the same tree—and they weren’t fighting! Another amazing thing is that I think this is my first bird picture (though through the window); I was actually able to push the button on my camera before they flew (well three of them anyway)!

Happily, the sun is back and it’s supposed to warm up.

Singing in the Rain

A young mockingbird either sang despite the rain or fussed because of it; I don’t know which since it didn’t tell me. By the time I, camera in hand, realized that maybe I could actually photograph a bird it had flown. Nevertheless, the raindrops on the branches are beautiful.

In winter it can be a little harder to get green in one’s meals but parsley though small is stalwart. This flat-leaf variety I grew from seed has survived temperatures in the upper “teens”! It’s nice to have some fresh herbs for seasoning. And as a bonus—parsley contains several vital nutrients including the vitamin C I’ve been looking for!

Loud, With Clouds

The sky is a gray blanket that bird calls bounce off of; one bird squeaks like a swing on its bar then a crow squawks either his prowess or unhappiness—I’m not sure which.

Despite the raucousness and gloom some new and good things are happening. Two tiny leaf tips and another bud are peeking out of Oskar’s bulb! Multiple buds are a benefit of the larger amaryllis bulbs.

Oskar is from Holland, where Brother Andrew* writes that during World War 2, his family and many others survived the famine of Nazi occupation by eating tulip bulbs. Maybe that’s why Oskar’s box carries this caution, “Not for human consumption.”


The Mexican Petunia is actually developing new buds while the miniature orange zinnia and Sweet William are blooming again. Today is also a Red Hibiscus Day.

*Brother Andrew is famous for smuggling Bibles into the foreign Soviet Union and writing about it in his book, God’s Smuggler—an exciting read!

Golden Morning

I'm listening to the Weston Priory Brothers gently singing, and looking out at golden-lit pine tops while Cardinals and Blue Jays coast from one bare limb to another. Nameless smaller birds flit higher--in the pine tops, their smooth bellies reflecting the golden morning.

But then I see it; the Mexican Petunia curves up the balcony corner, branches (few as there are) reach through the rails into air, where last night’s incessant rain toppled it. So I run into the cold to right it. Brrr, a sweater isn’t enough; and to think that last night we were “sweltering.” I set the small pot with its giraffe resident up again. And again. Finally I’m hoping that the mono-filament line that gave the hyacinth bean vine height will now give stability to the Mexican Petunia.

The warmth of the morning sun on my indoor garden is more to my liking than the outdoor chill. Now that the pear leaves are gone, the bright light reveals dusty “Lucky Bamboo” and dracaena leaves. Warm water on a cloth or paper towel not only clears dust from the plants’ breathing apparatus but adds welcome humidity. Since dust always dulls color; their colors now shine brighter and that’s (almost) always good.

Sky Symphony

Pouring rain doesn’t deter the chickadees, cardinals and blue jays from chirruping and rushing from tree to tree. Another crowd of pilots are in no hurry at all but are taking a bug break on the lawn.

Now that the rain has stopped, sky water gurgles through the gutters sounding like a mountain brook.

Though the temperatures aren’t expected to climb out of the fifties today, the air is fresh…washed.

The pineapple sage blossom has developed a beautiful arch as it opened; another is beginning.

The Last Flowers of Summer?

Perhaps this is the last arrangement of my garden “flowers” for the season. The Victoria Blue Salvia is more intensely blue violet with the cold weather and the Parrot Leaf is as bright as ever, not seeming to mind the cold one bit (yet). When I uncovered them this morning I was struck by the intensity of their colors and knew that a cobalt blue “vase” would magnify that intensity. Why not bring some in before they were gone since both “flowers” were plentiful? (When I was younger, it seemed that all the “older” women referred to everything in a garden that wasn’t vegetable or tree as “flowers”).

I spent several years in the floral industry but I still like my grandmother’s flower arranging style, “They need to look natural like they do when they’re growing.” She was ahead of her time. ☺

In the garden I saw two bright red male cardinals vying for territory and, probably, a mate. I can’t remember when I last saw cardinals around here.