now for something really scary

Posted on October 27, 2012 by paridevita

Warning: may not be suitable for all audiences.

I think I’ve dislocated my eyes, rolling them every time I read buzzwords like “sustainable”, “xeric”, and “drought tolerant”. That may explain the quality of the pictures presented below, or it could just be that I don’t know what I’m doing with the camera (always a possibility).

This is my front yard. It gets no water at all. None. Last year, the front yard endured less than seven-tenths of an inch of precipitation from the middle of July until the end of the year. There are no applications of fertilizer, no soil amendments, no spraying of anything. There is no design. No color harmonies. No consideration given to how large something might get. Plants that can’t tolerate this are allowed to die.

Visitors just scurry by in horror and disgust. Not to mention loathing.

 

On the right, a group of keckiellas in cages to prevent them from being devoured by gigantic bunnies.

And when the visitors make their way through the leafy, green shade garden, what do they see? More of the same! It’s spreading into the back yard! Ah ha ha ha ha ha HA!

Flock of Agaves parryi var. parryi, with one var. huachucensis in upper center (the greener one).

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the white stuff

Posted on October 25, 2012 by paridevita

Woke up to this.

ick

Snow, even though it creates a “winter wonderland” and is “moisture for the garden” and blah, blah, blah, is extremely boring. Nature’s version of motivational seminars and team-building exercises. Totally devoid of anything interesting.

True, border collies like snow, and I guess that’s important to me.

Slipper in the blizzard of March 2003

Well, I do remember one thing, and have associated it with snow ever since. When I was ten, new to Colorado, I was forced to take the train to Winter Park in an attempt to get me enthusiastic about skiing. It was freezing cold, I hated the whole thing, walked about five feet up the ski slope and decided that was enough for me. On the way back, I was walking through train car filled with women in heavy sweaters, and the train lurched, I started to fall, held out my hands to grab onto anything that would break my fall, and the anything turned out to be a pair of very nice breasts. I pretended to be embarrassed and ran into the next car.

That’s my One Good Memory of Snow. I never set foot anywhere near a ski slope after that; tried ice skating once, and sledding once, too.

I managed to take one picture of the coppery glint on the fruit of Opuntia violacea var. macrocentra before the sun disappeared, in preparation for more snow tonight.

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