Who knew that today would be the day that all the birds came to visit? Not us. Still haven't seen a hummingbird but we're keeping our fingers crossed, the apple tree and lilacs are just about to burst into bloom.
The first visitor we hadn't seen in a long time, probably all winter, was this Bluejay nabbing a peanut while the Cardinal had a snack on the platform feeder.
Then Durwood said, "ooh, what's that?" and I looked up to see this Rose-breasted Grosbeak on the platform feeder. There's a pair of them and they've been back and forth, up into the apple tree and then down to the feeder most of the morning.
I didn't get a picture but an Oriole stopped by just for a second. Naturally I didn't have the oriole feeders out but you'd better bet the sight of one spurred me to action. I quickly boiled some water to make nectar, went downstairs for the oriole feeder and the ant guard, then it was out into the garage for the jelly and orange half feeder. While the nectar cooled I got the jelly feeder poked into the ground next to the retaining wall and rearranged feeders so we'll have a good view of the visitors.
While I did yoga a pair of Goldfinches came to the thistle feeder but they've been here all winter so, ho hum. (not really, I love the way they change their color from dull in winter to bright and cheery in the spring)
The first thing in the morning I go out to water & fertilize or just water my bales. They're starting to smell like grass clippings kept in a bag, kinda funky, but that means they're starting to compost which is a very good thing and the book assures me that the smell will dissipate once the process is further along. I was excited to see that there's a Saturday morning talk about raised bed and straw bale gardening this weekend so I called yesterday and signed up. A group has started an indoor hydroponic (I think) farm in an old armory downtown so after the talk we get a tour. I'm looking forward to it. Oh, and I noticed the first flower on the blueberries. Very cool. They'll get their annual fertilizer drenching and a nice thick layer of pine bark mulch tomorrow.
Knitting a couple rows here and a couple rows there has gotten me to within 10 rows of being done with LC's sweater. Then all I have to do is find some buttons, give it a bath, and see if she likes it. I think she will, it's purple and orange and sparkly. What's not to love when you're 3?
May 11--Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, The Clay Pit. Max stood on the floor of the pit looking at the walls. He saw the changes fom the rough top where men dug by hand and early steam shovels down to the smooth bottom where blades sliced out the blocks of clay. Artists from all over the world used his family's clay, his clay to make art but also utilitarian things like bowls and mugs. Their clay wasn't brown or gray like dirt, it was an orange pink color like the sweetest part of the peach. He supposed that it was silly to be so proud of slippery dirt but Max loved the clay and was happy to have spent his life working in the pit even as pain squeezed his chest and he fell face down in the puddle at his feet.
I really liked that painting, it was colorful and Impressionist, so I was surprised when old Max took a dirt nap at the end. Time to slap some pictures on this thing and go out into the no longer sunny day to keep the world safe from SCUBA diving. Hasta la vista, babies.