Freshly opened it seems
Freshly opened it seems
Every morning I go outside to see if there is anything worth a photo. This is the only view I have of the Jura mountains from my front yard. the neighbour’s house opposite is also in the picture and the Jura in the background. This photo was from this morning.
This was from 12th March, when we even had some blue skies.
And at the end of April it snowed up in the Jura. You can also see how the trees vary in their growth in the photos.
Tabby on the left and Nera on the right, two litter sisters having a feline disagreement. Otherwise they were one paw and whiskers together. Tabby is still with me, at the age of 17 years, a grand old lady now and Nera left for her 10th life up in the eternal corn chambers catching mice, about 4 years ago. I do not know who won this particular battle, but there were still sharing their litter tray and food bowl afterwards.
So now everything is growing. but not only what you planned for, nature has other intentions. I am continuously showing with pride my flowering garden, but what about the flowers that just appear for no apparent reason. When they built our estate, now about 25 years ago, they planned a natural meadow in between the blocks, meaning no mowing until June: just let it grow. From my view out of the window I have watched it grow every year. It begins with a few leaves breaking the surface in March and before you know it May has arrived and the leaves have become king sized plants, so I had a closer look today.
Of course we all know this one, a little humble daisy. This one I found particularly attractive with its dots of red on the petals, but it still remains a daisy.
And I think this is what is known as a cowslip, We have a few patches of them amongst the others. It is always the taller plants that take your attention.
This one is a mystery to me. I had a look in my plant identifier, but it was giving names of plants that are not indigenous to our area. One suggestion was marshallium, which says nothing to me. Perhaps someone has an idea. It is always the isolated flowers that are so pretty and add a little excitement to the meadow.
Of course everyone know this one. The epilogue of the dandelion that will spread its seeds and maintain the survival of the dandelions. Whether you like them or not, they will stay. They also develop quite strong fleshy roots to make sure they are anchored for eternity. And if you decide to remove them completely, they will return.
I took these photos with my phone camera within five minutes outside in the meadow, accompanied by the calls of Mr. Swiss who was convinced I would fall, although I was hanging onto my walker. The problem is I have to bend to get a nice close-up being 1 meter 75 cm tall and he had visions of me laying on the ground, all because of a dandelion.
This meadow remains until the first week of June to give the plants time to spread their seeds and maintain the meadow.
In the village I also took a photo of this meadow.
A buttercup display and yes, we also have some here and there in our local meadow.
May is the time of the year for the wild flowers, they just do it all by themselves.
Where would we be without humans?
Our local Jura mountains are looking good this morning with a nicely coloured cloud background, but let us not be fooled. Whether the clouds might stay is an open question, but we have frost warnings and a threat of snow. At the moment temperatures are behaving with 7-9° C, but who knows how the day will develop. I am hoping that in our area it remains sensible.
My iris have now produced some buds and I really hope that they have the chance to open and not freeze before it happens, although it seems our plants always find a method of survival somehow.
My hostas are arriving slowly and probably my bleeding heart plant will be disappearing in the next couple of weeks, to reappear again next year. In the meanwhile I am enjoying the flowers.
We are getting some interesting morning skies at the moment, at least some colour and not the grey of the rainy days.
And we have yet another week-end before us, although week-end or weekday makes not a not of difference when you are a golden oldie. It just means that time is again waiting for no-one and the days, months and years are passing a little too fast for my comfort. I suppose you could say we are now in the twilight years of our lives. Everything used to look so good. We were looking forward to retirement. No longer the daily dredge with work and taking orders. We become our own chiefs now and then the doc says next week for an examination or an x-ray and the worst perhaps even an operation. And do not forget to pick up your pills at the chemists. A never ending list of things to do. and not in the positive sense. But we carry on. Yesterday I was on the supermarket tour again. Food buying is not so bad, it is all in the same place, but not everything is in the same place. the chemists are on the lower floor and so is the alcohol. We both do not drink actually. I never really did and as you get older a drink is not what you feel like. We are now the minteral water and cola drinkers, but I like to cook with wine so always have a bottle of red and white in the kitchen and so I have to take the lift to the lower level.
There are not many shoppers in the store. Since I changed my routine to afternoon shopping I notice there is less stress, less children and less rush. Kids are OK, but it can be a bother when they run around with their little trolleys pretending to be mum and the mums are continuously filling up their trolleys to be a perfect mum. Dogs are not allowed into the supermarket and are tied up outside in their little huts, so why not – no, forget it. That could cause problems with the parents of this world. Just the ramblings of a golden oldie who is glad to reach home in one piece. And the traffic on Friday afternoon: I was stuck in a jam just waiting for a traffic light to change on the way home. I do not understand why there are more cars on the road on Friday afternoon. It is a working day like any other.
Today I do not intend to go anywhere, except perhaps a photo safari in my wheelchair, although then the weather has to play its part as well.
Enjoy your week-end, despite my moaning, it can only get better.
My "bump" was in 2016 when, aged 48, I suffered a stroke. This blog charts my recovery. (Header clipart licensed by pngguru.com.)
Enjoying life and the empty nest while easing into retirement,
I am Ahmed Abdi, a Wordpress blogger and storyteller who searches for stories that inspire people. I love writing because it’s a reflection of how I perceive the world around me. Lost in a world of endless chaos in my childhood, Unforgettable moments of tragedy and triumphs taught me the art of storytelling where I found myself through letter writing and then turned into stories but then sadly had lost everything I wrote for years. In 2018, I decided to create a Wordpress blog site that would allow me to store and retrieve every piece. Stories from my community, city and people are what make my writing so interesting and inspiring! I’m a tea lover so a cup of tea sometimes makes my blog.
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