Indian Summer

Roger is off to Malawi, leaving me and the cats to enjoy the glorious Indian summer weather. Just before he left we bought and he planted the first wave of shrubbery for the back of the yard. We have a planting plan which we are not exactly following slavishly but which we nevertheless use as a "tutorial", as Roger describes it. We've wandered quite a bit from the strict adherence to native plants that our architect suggested--for example, she specified Vibernum dentatum, known as "Arrowwood" because the Indians used it to make arrows; we have substituted a larger and showier Vibernum tomentosum or doublefile viburnum because Roger likes the flowers so much. The new plantings include some amalanchier, or shadbush, some ilex verticulata (deciduous holly generally called winterberry) and a bush called Virginia sweetspire which I'd never heard of before. The border looks very promising already but it's hard to photograph--the one picture is of the afternoon sun shining through the reddish sweetspire leaves--that's a virburnum behind it and one of the hollies to the left. Roger did all of the clearing out and planting, which he seems to enjoy almost as much as bicycling. My only claim to possession is that I have been fiercely watering since the Indian summer could be considered, in some circles, a severe drought.

The other garden picture is of the little late lettuce bed we started which is doing extremely well; I can now get a whole lunch salad out of the thinnings and it's a pleasure to know I'll have the lettuces for weeks to come. The last row is of a beautiful purple kale that we saw growing at Wisley gardens and bought there.

The little birdbath pictured earlier has really been puzzling me--I fill it most mornings and find it nearly drained the next day. I worried that it could be leaking but found the other day that the birds are enjoying it so much that they use the water up, splashing around and shoving one another and generally having a good time. I've tried several times for a picture but they fly off the minute the back door is opened. Actually our big bird news is the fact that we have spotted a group of Parakeets that lives wild somewhere nearby. There is a big colony of them--very lively and noisy birds and very impressive to look at. I wish I could figure out how to lure them more regularly to our yard. These are big Parakeets, the size of Parrots, not the little Budgerigars.

Eyes

My eyes continue to do well although I had not let them get as bad as Jean had and so have a less marvelous result to mull over. I do have one very odd result, which is that I see a shadow in the corner of the second eye which is apparently the edge of the lens--very odd; it doesn't interfere with my vision and should get better with time, but it's a haunting reminder that there is an alien Something in there. I am getting VERY tired of eyedrops but must continue them in the second eye for another two weeks.

Cats

The cats are very found of Roger but are, nevertheless, enjoying his absence. They sleep on our bed now, taking up pretty much his entire half. I post new pictures not because I am besotted with my cats but for Roger's pleasure and to show to friends in Malawi.

Moonvine

The funny blackish bud in the last picture is a moonvine, which is a wonder to me. It was planted terribly late in the season and I don't deserve flowers but it looks like I will get them if the weather holds. I have never even seen a moonvine; it's a plant of my imagination, based entirely on the passages in Henry Mitchell's Earthman (see the old list of favorite books).

You can tell in the afternoon which buds will open that night. In the South, where I used to live, it was the custom to keep an eye on the moonvine and, when sixty or so buds showed they would open that night, to ask people over to watch them. Unfortunately, people in that country talk so much that I cannot recall seeing the buds open very often...

These parties, once such a feature of the American summer, were always spontaneous, since you had only a few hours to plan them and invite people. It was always astonishing to see how many people could come at the last minute.

Maybe next year.