May Colors

Most of the flowering trees are done blooming by mid-May in our latitude. Colors become more muted; less pronounced. This year we had weeks of above average rain. So, everything is a lush green, like a rain forest. But around the edges, there are other colors in Bittersweet Woods. Here are some of them.


Catmint


New Holly tree growth


Tri-colored beech


Blue-eyed grass


Smoke tree leaves


Kousa dogwood in bloom


Multiflora rose


Early morning on the beach at Hilton Head Island SC

Winter in May

Blackberries in bloom.

Seems like every May we have a week of cool, rainy, annoying weather. It happens just after a few 80 degree days, the winter coats are stashed for the summer, fireplace is cleaned out, and we are used to wearing shorts and flip flops. I remarked about this once to a client. He looked at me and announced matter-of-factly that this weather phenomenon is called Blackberry Winter.

It has that name because it occurs in May when the blackberry bushes are in bloom. Variations of this are referred to as dogwood winter, redbud winter, depending on when and at what latitude you live. Here is more about it: http://davesgarden.com/guides/articles/view/2410/.

We had such a period this year after a few recent years without a noticeable episode. It was rainly, cool, and gloomy - day after day for about 5 days. It is impossible do mow the lawn or do outdoor activities. The trail footing was mushy; dogs feet required constant cleaning. It is frustrating to outdoor addicts like us.

But, oddly, there was a beauty to it. The woods were lush, leaves glistening in the perpetual moisture. The rush of the waterfall was audible throughout the valley. Wildflowers persisted, yet the birds were more hushed. There was a quietness and peace about it. We saw blackberry blooms. Even the invasive multiflora rose thickets flowered and threw off a pleasant scent wafting along the trail.




Now it's gone. We're ready to move on, thankful for the rhythm of the weather and life in Bittersweet Woods.

Dad is Gone

It's been a month today since Dad died on March 30, 2011. He had been weaker and weaker, worn down by multiple afflictions of old age - almost deaf and blind, barely able to walk. His frustration was obvious at times, but he was usually stoic and accepting of his situation. But he was ready to be with the Lord - where he could hear four part harmony sung, see a glistening raindrop on a leaf, and walk briskly along a tree lined street.

We were blessed that he received expert care at the assisted living home where he lived out his final five years. The staff and private duty caregivers provided wonderful, caring support. They became like family. Dad could be stubborn and often private. He was focused on others. Accepting help for himself, especially in personal activities, was not easy. But he was grateful for the help as the realization of his limitations became evident. Caregivers remarked that he always thanked them for even the smallest act of help. They were grateful and often said that others they cared for rarely said thanks.

He lay quietly for several days at the end. Many of the staff and caregivers came in to see him on their own time or at the end of their shift. Most were on our list of those who wanted to know - day or night - when he passed away.

I think back to Dad's life in his own Bittersweet Woods. He was not an outdoor person in the usual sense of the word. But he enjoyed camping when we were kids. We literally saw America from the back of a Ford station wagon. That's where my interest in the outdoors was awakened. He loved working in the yard, plucking out weeds, pruning bushes, and mowing. And for most days for the 50 years running the jewelry store, he walked to work. His route took him along tree lined streets and the past the tranquil Mound Cemetery where he was laid to rest.

"Life goes on in Bittersweet Woods" is a phrase that I have used often. There is a rhythm of cycles and a continuity that goes with the natural world. Now the phrase has a deeper meaning and a reminder that there is continuity in the spiritual world as well.

Water Wonderland

It's been a rainy April - about 9 inches of rain so far, more than double the average. The Ohio River and local streams have flooded regularly. Mowing is a challenge. The grass is growing like crazy with the rain and warm temperatures. But it is often too wet to mow.

It has made the trail pretty muddy at times. Our water bill is above normal because the dogs' feet need to be washed each time they go out when it is wet.

The creek is running full but is beautiful: Lots of riffles, rivulets, and fast flowing stretches that sparkle in the sun. The sounds are a pleasant distraction, creating a world apart from the usual noises of civilization: gurgles, babbling, rushing, roaring - you get the idea. Then there is the waterfall. You can hear the roar of waterfall throughout the hollow in Bittersweet Woods. As the former mayor of our town was fond of saying: its "beauty-ful."

The rainy weather limits outdoor activity that we are addicted to. But we've learned to be flexible. Yesterday was a good example. Rainly, dark, and foggy in the morning. By noon, rains stops, sky clears, there is a pleasant breeze. Dave hustles out for a few holes of golf. Suz grabs garden tools, and gets to work edging some of the planting areas and cutting off last year's lariope grass ground cover.

Tomorrow it's back to work. Life goes on, rain or shine, in Bittersweet Woods.

March is here, thankfully

It has been typical March weather here in the Ohio Valley - snow one day, 65 the next. Rain, wind, river flooding are part of the picture. We spent a week in Orlando, then Hilton Head Island in SC, for some late-winter malaise relief. It was March in Florida,too - 85 one day, 65 the next. But sunny most of the time - that makes a big difference. I was surprised that some trees were not leafed out yet. I suppose Florida would become boring if we lived there, but to visit it is always a pleasant surprise to see palm trees, egrets, and herons.



In Hilton Head, the bermuda grass was still brown, and lots of trees were still without leaves. But we were able to enjoy the ocean, tennis, and occasional sun bathing. There it was windy, also.



We're home now, in Bittersweet Woods. The dogs romp, get their feet muddy, and chase the deer as usual. We have some downed trees to clear up. But there are signs of life. Crocus and daffodils are just starting to bloom.



The creek is full and the waterfall overflowing. Spring is almost here in Bittersweet Woods.