What a difference a day makes!
Each morning, rain or shine, winter, spring, summer, fall, I make my window rounds. First the bedroom window, in search of the wandering herd of deer, down the rather steep flight of stairs to the front window, our living painting opening up to me, like the painting at Hogwarts School for Boys and Girls of Potter fame. The dining room, the kitchen, the library. Searching for what has changed overnight; what has past and what is new. There is always something out there to give me pause and be thankful for yet another day.
This morning, my eyes first went to an urn I just planted with caladium and white impatients. The urn is close to the window and I plant it more for us to enjoy from within rather than the passers-by from without. On the bottom of the pedestal something moved. A toad! Timothy Toad! (Okay, I call them all Timothy. It is what it is.) Comfortable in his own skin and unaware of me looking down through panes of glass, Timothy Toad was resting there, soaking in the bright and beautiful morning, probably just as glad for another day as I was.
It was the chipmunk that raised my ire. There was the little dickens rummaging around in my newly planted flower pots, dirt everywhere and plants upended. I rapped on the window and off he flew, onto the ground, a sea of periwinkle sporting the wave as he scurried about, meeting up with his brother, the two of them scampering about like Chip and Dale. My life – one rolling cartoon after another!
It was then, watching a cartoon playing out in the early morning, that I saw it. One lone and garish poppy, orange against all the greens and the purples and pinks, shouting “Hey, I’m here. Anyone notice?” I did, and off I hopped, like all the Timothy Toads, sandals and smile, camera in hand, for you never know how long a poppy will last on a clear and calm day here along the cutoff with chipmunks and deer and who knows what else, my own little kingdom, my own land of Oz.
They now came upon more and more of the big scarlet poppies, and fewer and fewer of the other flowers; and soon they found themselves in the midst of a great meadow of poppies. Now it is well known that when there are many of these flowers together their odor is so powerful that anyone who breathes it falls asleep, and if the sleeper is not carried away from the scent of the flowers, he sleeps on and on forever. But Dorothy did not know this, nor could she get away from the bright red flowers that were everywhere about; so presently her eyes grew heavy and she felt she must sit down to rest and to sleep.
From The Wizard of Oz by Frank Baum
Lifeonthecutoff's Blog 
Oh, so wonderful! Isn’t it amazing what can happen in the night.
We had a chipmunk explosion here in the breakfast hour. Edward and Apple located Chip and Dale dwelling and it captured their attention totally. I had to pull on my wellies and trudge out into the garden to retrieve them both. In white linen pajamas, grateful once again that my garden is secluded!
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I am sitting here, chuckling. Just last night, there I was in the near dark, wearing a long, white robe, sure with our deep set lot and cover of trees, no one would see me tossing some coffee grounds into the garden to improve the soil, or whatever it is that coffee grounds do. Out of the corner of my eye, there was our neighbor, sitting on his porch, drinking a cup of coffee, surely wondering what it was that I was up to thins time. Edward and Apple have quite the Eden where they can romp after Chip and Dale. You made me smile.
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Beautiful.
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Thanks. Two more days. I’m thinking of you.
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Like the ferns, poppies grow wild in Ireland, at least near Dublin. Declan tells me that all you have to do is disturb the soil, turn it over, and poppies will grow there the next year. I’m not sure if that’s true but they sure do grow all over the place, especially along the roadways.
Your Hogwarts-esque painting/window sounds magical!
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Oh, Ireland must be such a magical place. Do they get the red poppies? I can just imagine their beauty. Thanks, Janet.
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Yes they’re red and they look beautiful growing randomly along the roadways! My mother used to grow them from seeds, but I never appreciated them as much as I did seeing them wild.
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I bet they are just beautiful. I’ve tried growing poppies from seed with no luck. Maybe I should take a clue from Declan and just turn up the soil in the fall and throw some in.
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