Good day friends!
Today here in Western Tennessee where I am unfamiliar with how the
seasons act, I couldn't stand to stay in any longer. I opened up
windows all over the house to let in the blustery winds that rattled
the blinds and made humming sounds as they vibrated the thin metal,
and the scent of the earth outside was almost like subtle perfumes
that beckoned me to come out and at least see who had showed up this
fine pre-spring day. The sky above was a mixture of blues and light
blue-gray as the clouds tried to organize, but the sun was insistent,
and eventually won out. I donned comfy jeans and a sleeveless tank
that usually combines for winter attire, and was going to put on a
light sweat shirt that has all sorts of prints of various trees from
the whole US on it, but as I went to the post box to check on the mail
first (with Sugar in close guard, "herding" me in her less obvious
ways "wha? ME herding YOU? you're not supposed to see me doing this
Ma!!" ) I realized that it was far too warm to wear the outer shirt,
so I tied it around my waist and took the mail inside, and then came
right back out to get a better look at the bulbs that have been
springing up in serious efforts in the kitchen entrance garden out
front of the house. Those bulbs were planted late. November, when it
was cool, and just out of desperation to get them finally into the
ground. I had stored them for three months in the veggie drawer to
give them a proper chill in case winter proved to be milder than I was
expecting. It wasn't. They've had some record snows here this
year.
So I meander around and get right down on my knees to better look
the narcissus in the faces. (now where did I put those cards with the
variety on them??) and inhaled. Hmmm, no scent on these, but aren't
they magnificent! Deep yellow outer petals, with dark orange reddish
cup that almost glow. And over in the front corner, little deep blue
helmets of muscari that make me grin to myself. A few waining
snowdrops, but more and more green tongues of more narcissus popping
out of the warming soil. Wow. Over to the front middle of the front
yard, traffic is too heavy, but I am suddenly rewarded with seeing a
beginning pool of blue from all the muscai I had tucked around the
knees of the two different kinds of Ninebark (Physocarpus).
Coppertina and Diablo. Once spring really arrives here, I know that
under Diablo's knees there lies Juno irises. I am patient. I can
wait.
But what's this??? The small shrub on the property boundary line
has started to fill out the buds that are all along the slended stems
and....is it? IT IS!!!!!! Chinese Almond!! I just can't locate the
proper name for it right now. I had cut a branch to force and only
today has it started opening and it is indeed what I've always known
as Chinese almond flora pleno. (I have beautiful pictures of the one
in Old Faerie Holler if anyone wants to give me the proper name).
My joy was obvious, and I checked everyone's progress since I was
now in official "who's doing what" mood. The tight buds along the
variegated hydrangea are starting to unwrap themselves as they've
hugged one another tightly these cold months planted just near the
north bedroom window. It will get high Eastern sunlight and very
indirect western sun through the pecan tree that straddles the
property line near the back yard nearest the corner of the house.
Someone had planted common yellow daffodils all around the house in
odd clumps, so it was rather nice to see not only buds plumping up,
but some had opened. As I checked on the twigs and stems of the
various Viburnums for more plumping, I took note of things needing to
be done over time. That holly bush is going to have to be limbed up,
so that more indirect Eastern sunlight gets to the perennial ageratum
(Eupatoria blue myst). Over head, I could hear the local mockingbird
scolding me. I think (and hope) that he's laid claims to my crab apple
tree, or even the crape myrtle at the corner of the house in front of
the dining room windows. I've seen him tangle and hook bone with
another male for territorial rights already.
The temperature was very warm. 72° and very windy, and I decided
to get my ditigal camera to see if there was anyone's face worth
capturing. Sugar kept a close heel on me and almost got clipped when
the heavy outer door was slammed by the winds. The little black and
white female cat, Maggie was sitting there all proper and prim with
this bored look on her fizzog almost accusing the both of us for
leaving her inside. But I'd already opened the den door that leads to
the back yard and to the huge deck, so her being inside was her fault,
not mine. I quickly retrieved my digital eyes, tucked it into my front
pocket, located my tiny pruners which fit into the other pocket next
to my dad's lock blade pocket Case knife that he gave me just before
he died, which comes in quite handy when I need to cut a flower or a
thin branch, or a bit of this or that. Sugar ducked out the screen
door's corner section which is just the right size for her to do so in
a lady like manner, (she's a medium Border collie/black Lab mix and
about 50 pounds and in really good shape for her age) and turned to
give me that look of anticipation like "are we gonna play?" but I
chose to say the magical word to her that makes her go
nuts.....SQUIRRELS!!!!!! And she immediately pricked up her ears and
scrambled her toenails on the deck boards and off down one of the set
of steps she flew, digging up the ground with her accelerated feet.
She always runs like mad to the far end of the yard where the 50 foot
white pine are at the very back along the fence and stands on tippy
toes on her back feet as she looks up the tree and whines. Good thing
there are no lower limbs or she'd be up there giving the squirrels the
acorn squirts.
After I quit laughing, I noticed that the suet feeders needed
filling, and popped back inside to get the last suet blocks I had
tucked away. Back outside where Sugar was disgusted with me and lying
down in the yard, she was watching for those sneaky fluffy tailed
nutters, and I proceeded to distribute the three blocks of suet into
the cages when I noticed sitting nonchalantly chewing on a black
sunflower seed, a little finch with fluffy breast feathers, a little
bit of yellow on her shoulders, and black and white patches on the
wings. A little common Chaffinch female. She worked on the black
sunflower seed for awhile, giving me the casual eye, but kept on at
her labors to open the hull and get to the meat of the seed inside.
Then working herself around to the backside of the wire cage feeder,
she flew over to get a drink at the birdbath I have set up near the
stand of feeders that I tucked near the tree peony garden.
I was mesmerized by her total acceptance of me, and I took the
opportunity to go quickly back inside to get my digital camera and
hoped that I could capture some images of her really close up. Sugar
now was ignoring me, but Maggie the little black and white feline had
decided to stroll onto the deck and pretend she was perusing her
grounds like some haunty overblown queen. I knew what she was up to,
as she hunkered down as soon as she spotted the little female who had
flown to the other bird bath and was cleaning herself in that one,
fluffing and splashing about, so I shoo'ed her away (Maggie) and then
went and got the garden hose and spritzed the air above the deck where
she'd run under thinking I didn't see her all tucked back in the
fartherest part next to the house. But the drips of water was enough
to dislodge her and she huffed and ran streaking up the steps and back
inside to straighten her dampened fur and wonder where that sudden
moisture had come from. he he he he. Mission accomplished.
I laid down the hose, and went back to the feeders, and sure enough,
the little Chaffinch female had returned for another little knosch.
Regarded me with total indifference as I had hoped, and moved around
and turned her back on me while she worked another seed. I turned on
my digital camera and moved my hand to within seven inches of her and
took some pictures holding my breath. Then taking a chance, I started
speaking to her in a quiet voice, and told her I would stay put where
I was at and not intimidate her, but that I had run Maggie off because
I wouldn't allow my cat to be "normal" around her if I could help it.
She flew to the water nearest her, and drank to wash down the seed and
I held out my finger like I used to do with my parakeet decades ago
and made little squeeky sounds with my lips and asked her if she'd
consider coming to me. I felt quite foolish doing this, but being so
close, I had thrown caution and common sense to the winds which were
quite brisk at the moment, and the background music was a scolding
male black cap finch perched in the neighbors fig tree as I did all
this.
She regarded me as she sipped some more water and then the magical
moment arrived. Brief, poignant and I almost blushed myself to death.
She flew to my finger and perched there, looking at me all calm and
such and I held my breath and tears ran down my face as her little
feet reminded me of my little bird, Peter when I was a child so long
ago. And then she flew back to the feeder and snagged another seed and
gave it a good work out while I wept quietly and moved away to go tell
James about the incredible magical moment I'd just had.
This was right up there with my quite vivid memories of the luxury
of sitting in my own living room in the Old Faerie Holler watching a
whole family of hummers going quite mad over my Blue Enigma salvia
that bloomed non-stop from May until hard freeze in November in
Eastern Tennessee. The cats would grind their teeth at the sight of
them, and I never ever took that forgranted. Those moments are locked
in my memory warehouse!
I ran inside and related my incredible story to James who thought it
was quite neat, and then I went back outside to gather the discarded
plastic wrappings of the suet which I had laid down in my earlier
endeavors.
Now I know what you're thinking. What about the tease in the
header? Well, that night, we were experiencing some very humid and
violent weather. The high this day was 72° F and it was enough to
cause tornado's and warnings and watches through the night. Since
we're now in direct line for more of this than normal, we went on high
alert, but I don't stop during these weather situations unless I have
to, and my neighbor had called me over for a problem she was having.
After I was some minor help, we sat on her kitchen stoop and I thought
I heard some familiar sounds in the distance. I asked her if it could
be the little frogs, and she assured me that oh yes, with all the bogs
and soggy and moistness of this area, I'd definately hear peepers, but
it might be a bit too soon yet for them.
I let it go, but kept a marker. Now we have to fast forward to
yesterday as now a day has passed. We had quite violent rains and
excessively high winds and lightening shows that I knew would feed
what few things were greening up already and had a most remarkable
light show until the early hours. The winds had been so intense and
strong that there were moments in the street lights that patterns and
shapes were made by the intensity and strength of those winds. Fogs
and drops and swirls and shapes. It was amazing to see in the eeiry
light of the street lights here. So later in the day, eager to see
what had responded to the lightening, I once again went outside to
find any signs of success, and was rewarded with more unfurling of the
variegated hydrangea on the north side of our house, and the strange
green and stinky tree I haven't identified yet was completely toppled
over, so not one to miss a moment of ease, I pulled it completely out
of the soggy soil and hauled it to the front for the little old man
who does this to pick up later on.
The day was highly rewarding, all sorts of my narcissus were up and
facing outwards. Other plainer ones were just spotted with little
dots of soil that showed up in the pictures I was taking of the
arrivals. I had forgotten momentarily about anything else. Sugar
sulked from behind the glass and iron door with Maggie sitting next to
her, a veritable Mutt and Jeff in female was sitting behind the glass
just watching me putting outside without them. The day went by too
quickly and during the cleaning up of a late supper, I took some bones
for any critter who wanted it down the back yard to throw past our
fence. Too small for Sugar, and too dangerous for Maggie. As I
carried the plate in the half light of the back yard (the street over
has a grocery store who never turns off their lights even when they're
closed, nor the Utility company's back lot where they have all their
equiptment). A bit lighter outside than I'd like, I can still see
stars when they're visible, and as I woave my way past the new trellis
with the Dropmoor Red honeysuckle trained on either side, being
cautious not to step on the area where our gardens would go, I
suddenly realized I was hearing a familiar and much needed sound
coming in waves at me. It was PEEPERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The
gentle weep weep weep of the first horny males calling tentatively out
for their future wives and mothers of their little tads. I almost
dropped the plate with joy. But contained myself and tossed the bones
and such to whichever critter found them from the woods behind our
yard, and almost broke my fool neck getting back to the house to tell
my sweet husband yet another wonderous thing about our new home.
So there you have it! There are lots of things starting to waken
here in my new Faerie Holler, and I will give you some updates as they
happen. Thank you for letting me share this with you over the fence
and across the pond. I look forwards to chatting again. Think
Spring! It may just be coming here after all!
maddie in West Tennessee growing zone 7b about 57 miles from the
Mississippi River

On 13 Mar, 12:07, Janet Baraclough
wrote:
*Thanks Maddie. * Over many years *waiting for your "first peepers"
posts have become a little rite of spring *for me ;
so now I know it's sprung. *Cool chaffinch story :-)

* *Janet

Thank ye Janet! g I was worrying quite a bit about my new home and
being homesick, but hearing the "weeps" in the distance just past our
house were audible. I wish I could send a short mini digital camera
movie of last year's house hunting that close by here somewhere, James
took a visual of me walking down this road between two fields that
were flooded quite deeply and all I could hear was not peepers, but
hundreds of bull frogs of all sizes. As I walked, they started
shutting their mouths except for this one, and I tossed a small stone
in the direction and he kept on until I got close to him. It was
hilarious and my ear to ear grin with the sound of them was too
obvious..gbseg
maddie