Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Mockingbird Hill Cottage

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Looking Beyond the Surface

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I had a conversation with a dear friend yesterday about making judgments too quickly. About looking at a situation or a person and making a quick assumption about that person, that situation, without taking the time to look a little more deeply. Don and I have conversations about this sort of thing all the time. And it’s invariably sparked by one or both of us saying something like “I assumed this or that about X. I was so wrong.”

It’s a life lesson I keep learning.

For example, I looked at this beautiful coneflower and saw the flower:

Then, using the lens of my camera, I looked a little more closely and saw this:

There was much more going on than I originally thought.

A quick glance while watering showed me green leaves. Until I took the time to look a little more deeply.

And I saw this little guy, designed to blend in with the plants, but not really part of the plant. A new detail. More information. A change of thought about the picture I was seeing.

One of the ideas I hold dearest to my heart is this:

A miracle is a change in thought.

It’s that simple and that hard. But each time we suspend our assumptions, look a little more deeply and stop that impulse to judge, a little miracle occurs. Things shift. Ideas change. Clarity emerges. A door opens.
Just sharing some thoughts on this Wednesday morning.

Random Thoughts on a Monday Morning

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:: Does this photo look like I used a special effect in PicMonkey? Nope. Just a foggy lens courtesy of this awful humidity.

But I sort of like it. It looks a bit magical and mysterious.

:: Don’s home for about 36 hours. Originally it looked as if he would be working tonight as the play is moving onstage for a week of tech/dress rehearsals, but the cast got the night off. One of his fellow cast members lives south of us in New Jersey and gave Don a ride to our local park-and-ride, just off the Thruway, where I picked him up. The dogs were very happy to see him. So was I. They made him shave his goatee and cut his hair for the part he’s playing. (I miss his goatee.)

:: Yes, I know. This is a rather boring photo of a hose and hose hanger. But, in the why-didn’t-I-do-this-years-ago category, after 7 years here, I finally bit the bullet and bought the hanger. Previously, the hose just stayed in a sort of coiled mess on the ground. For some reason, the spigot for the hose is all the way around on the far side of the house. So I had to buy a 150′ long hose a few years back in order for the hose to reach the big garden bed. This hanger makes things so much easier. And neater.

:: The weeds that I see from our kitchen window are very popular. Yesterday, I posted some photos I took of a goldfinch that was flitting among the flowers. Today…

Same weeds, beautiful Eastern Swallowtail butterfly.

Such ephemeral beauty.

:: Is it wrong of me to say I’m getting a little tired of the Olympics? I am. I usually love watching them. Indeed, I have spent every evening this past week in front of the television cheering on those athletes. But I’m getting a bit weary of the whole thing. Part of the problem is the fact that I can’t look at any news sites online or on television without seeing some result posted before I have the chance to watch the event in primetime. Some sites handle it well and say “Spoiler Alert” giving readers the chance to make their own decision about that sort of thing. Many of them, however, including CNN and other major news outlets, just blast the headline, not caring one bit whether they might have ruined  the element of surprise for their viewers. I find the whole thing tedious. Since I’m online a lot, I feel like I’m trying to walk through a field of spoiler-landmines.

I know that covering the Olympics is an enormous undertaking but I do wish the commentators didn’t feel that they have to fill every moment with words. Too much talking! Sometimes I end up shouting “Shut Up!” at the television. When I was growing up in Michigan, we were able to watch Canada’s coverage of the Olympics, which I found much more sane and much less hyped.

Swimming and diving and gymnastics are my favorites and they’re pretty much done at this point. I used to love track and field, but now, not so much. Last night, it was a relief just to watch The Newsroom. Is there such a thing as Olympics burn-out?

I hope your Monday is a happy one.

Coneflower Crazy

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I’m wearing a rayon skirt right now because my shorts are in the wash. The darn thing is so slippery that my laptop is sliding toward my stomach! It’s not easy to type on a laptop that is sliding, let me tell you.

I love coneflowers. They are old-fashioned country garden flowers and they’re are all over my garden. By the entrance to the porch:

Extra-tall coneflowers are on the other side of the porch:

There are various other patches of coneflowers that have self-seeded. Don’t you love when that happens?

I was looking at the big garden bed the other day, trying to figure out what to do with the relatively bare patches in the middle of the bed. Ding! Why not some hardy coneflowers? So I trotted off to my favorite local nursery to see if they had any left.

Am I the only person out there who visits a nursery at this time of year and gets sad? Everything is picked over, dying, root-bound and generally neglected looking. I wandered around, talking to the plants. I was the only person there, so there was no one to observe this behavior. What happens to them? Do they get tossed on some pile of trash? I want to find homes for them. I did see a very neglected New Dawn rose that would need severe pruning. I didn’t buy it, but now I’m thinking twice about that decision. Should I go back and get it?

Anyway, I managed to find two “White Swan” coneflowers and two coneflowers that are part of a “Cone-fection” series, called “Milkshake.” They are also a creamy color and very pretty, though they haven’t bloomed yet.

Today, in the sweltering humidity, I planted them.

There’s another milkshake coneflower to the left, on the other side of the stepping stones. While I was there, I fixed some of the stepping stones that had moved out of place – the garden has a sharp slope and they tend to slide downward.

I know it will take a few years, but my hope is that they will fill in those bare spots and add a dash of white to the garden. Just like the David phlox that is blooming right now at the far end of the big garden bed:

Their scent is heavenly.

Should I go back and buy that bedraggled New Dawn rose?

Lambs Like to Party

Lambs Like to Party

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