I planted a tiny artichoke plant last fall and now I’m starting to wish I had planted it somewhere else. It’s only mid March and the plant is already huge. Shooting this plant from above led to some fun working with the shadows.
Can you find the tiny cabbage in the shadow of the out of bounds artichoke? This plant might be shading the whole house by the time summer rolls around.
Up close it makes me think of some kind of prehistoric plant.
…and a couple of well placed nails.
Sometimes I just want to use a nail. It’s been decades now that I and many others have been using screws and drills to attach and build everything. It’s so easy — just zip, zip, buzz, buzz, click, click and it all goes together nice and tight and sturdy. It’s faster than nails. It’s more secure than nails. It’s easier to remove than nails (as long as you don’t strip the heads, of course).
But sometimes I miss nails. Building things with nails is one of the connections I have with the past and with my father who died in 1995. He was a civil engineer and when I was growing up in rural Louisiana we built many things together — with nails, but also with lag screws and carriage bolts and cables and chains. I loved drilling the holes with the brace and bit in addition to driving the nails.
I know screws and nail guns are nice but I enjoy the directness and the not-having-to-be-plugged-in-ness of attaching something with a couple of nails. Not having to depend on electricity is a big part of what I like. Dad and I could build things anywhere — out in a field somewhere, by the pond, in the woods. Availability of electrical power was one thing that was never even on our minds.
So today when I added a little extra support to my workshop in my ninety-three year old garage, I thought about the way I used to do it as a kid and just for fun I used some of the old tools. It was just a few nails, a couple of holes and some cuts with the hand saw. The best part, though, was that I felt my dad there with me the whole time.
We had a great time.
Down past the feral cat village and the compost pile lies the bamboo grove. The mysterious path, best navigated if you are less than a foot tall, winds on down Critter Avenue past the tree where the pair of Great Horned Owls share their song on even the darkest of nights. In the daytime hawks and crows cast unfriendly glances toward each other and each evening the possums and raccoons hurry along in route to the scroungers buffet. Who knows what else traverses this urban nature passage…
We are coming to take your recycling!
My neighbor, Helen Altman, likes to decorate her recycling and garbage bins.
I woke up and there was a giant fish outside my window.
Coming soon to a neighborhood near you…
Keeping an eye on things.