the miserable gardener

uninvited guests

I had this idea that feeding the birds would be a pleasant way to pass the winter. I have three tube feeders, two suet feeders, a heated birdbath, scatter seed on the ground for chickadees and other birds that would rather eat on the ground. I’ve become very popular with a wide variety of birds. But something has gone terribly, terribly wrong.

It started a week or so ago when a few redwinged blackbirds visited the back yard. As I mentioned at the time, it’s unusual to see these harbingers of spring visit the garden in January.

Yesterday, there were more than a few. There were hundreds of them.

Within a few minutes of the arrival of the first group, more appeared, and then more.

Maybe this means something. I grilled some chicken out on the patio the other day; do they know that? What if twice as many come today? Could this be my last post?

inside looking out

I took this picture of the Sneffels Range near, or on, the Dallas Divide just west of Ridgway, Colorado. Mount Sneffels, 14,150 feet, is the peak just to left of center.

I woke up, went down into the kitchen with Chess, pushed the button on the coffee machine, opened the back door for him, made his breakfast, turned on the laptop, and it started to snow.

snow

Then it stopped, and the sun came out.

looking southwest

looking northwest, snow clouds dissipating

On our walk, dark clouds…the ones I thought were going away….rolled in, and it started to snow. Now I see blue sky in the west.

There isn’t anything to look at in the garden anyway. All of the raised beds are covered with bird poop. I suppose I deserve this, since I hung the feeders near the raised beds, but it does lend a rather undignified look to everything, and the symbolism is a bit heavy-handed for me. One winter, after staring out the window for days, I rushed out to see the first flowers on the white flowered Daphne mezereum, only to discover that it was bird poop.

More of Cindy’s digital images today. These were taken in 2004, I think, and would never be published otherwise. Cindy wasn’t a gardener, though she loved to weed (and was the best weeder I’ve ever seen), so these represent a much different take on the beauty of plants than I have. In fact once she got a digital camera she took pictures she wanted to take, pictures that made her happy.