Cue the spooky, space epic, movie soundtrack.
We’re being invaded. Or is that the moon rising in broad daylight.
A few days ago I visited the sculpture park. To see what I could see and gather a few more examples of public sculpture to share on this blog. This park is known for large items. As I started up the grassy slope it first appeared as a white bump, perhaps equivalent to a mushroom popping up in spring grass.
It’s not spring. It’s bigger than a mushroom — much larger. Fine red lines interrupt the smooth white surface.
Step, step, step. I continue climbing up the gentle hill to see what I can see.
It looks back.
You see photos of them in Kansas tourist literature.
They made an appearance after a tragedy in Ukraine.
Row after row of tall, green, sturdy stalks holding sunflower heads. Outlined with rim of yellow to attract pollinators, the seed heads mature in long summer days.
It went a little different in my garden.
They sprouted in a row. Critters nipped and snacked on several. A few (three) survived with stalks pushing the forming heads above the tomatoes. The shortest blossomed first. As they matured they drooped. One over the fence to greet the neighbor, another over the tomato ring to entangle with the vines.
When are they ready? Do I wait for them to dry on the stalk? I inspected one head, found formed seeds. I picked it to dry and set it aside on the patio.
It vanished. The thief left a mess of shells. Ah…should I blame chipmunks or squirrels?
The very next day I watched the thief in action. He wore gray and used his tail for balance as he skipped along the bent stalk. Chomp. Chomp. He carried away the smaller of the remaining heads.
Within minutes he returned with a friend. This time they pulled the seed container down and nibbled along the edges.
No seed will be saved by human to plant next year. Hope they enjoyed their treat.
Squirrel Snack Machine
Posted in Blog
Tagged animals, Garden
The great autumn move will soon take place. Here in the Mississippi flyway we get our share of seasonal travelers.
I’ve spent many winters in the area north of my present location and I can’t say that I blame them. Especially those that have summered in the northern reaches of Canada among the very cold lakes and inlets of the Arctic Ocean. Food sources will soon disappear to cold weather, ice, or snow.
So they pack their stomachs with a good meal, round up their friends and neighbors, and head south. Leaders guide the flock with a few well-timed honks, squawks, or calls. (Depending on species.) It’s not a direct flight. They keep a sharp look-out for fields or wetlands able to supply another good meal and rest area.
How far will they go? Hundreds of miles? Thousands? As far as it takes?
This flight demonstration team stays year round to entertain St. Louis visitors.
The world can be a dangerous place. It’s a canine duty to alert their humans to the hazards.
Large, bulky items such as a strange human on the front lawn earn a verbal alarm. Other substantial threats can be found visually on a quick circuit of the primary world boundaries. This same sentry circuit will often rid the property of smaller hazards also — rabbits, squirrels, the cat from down the street.
Then the real work begins. A careful member of any security detail pays attention to the small things. Little items the humans my discount, or not notice, need extra attention. Yes, I’m talking crickets, toads, and the rare invisible baby zombie. A girl can’t be too careful. Who will feed, water, and pet me if the monsters take over?
No hazard is too small for a closer look.
Meet a collie team of security “experts” in Starr Tree Farm. Available in ebook or paperback.
The United States is a nation of do-it-yourself. It may be the pioneer spirit. The large number of people that grew up rural – where it was between difficult and impossible to find exact parts and the people that understood them.
But we do little things on our own all the time. Think back to the last church or community meeting you attended. Chairs in a roomy basement or gym. An announcement near the end to the effect “would a few volunteers please stay and stack the chairs”
In some organizations this works like a well oiled machine. You could almost tell which kids were in Scouts by their efficient, don’t need to tell me twice, behavior.
In the public sculpture below the artist has taken the phrase “stack the chairs” literally and large.
The schools are back in session. Those that tried to get a start on the teaching/learning by opening during August may even get an increase in student attention span now that most public swimming pools are closed and that final family cook out (or wash out, depending on the weather) is history.
Now the oral and written reports with the “what did you do this summer” begin. Teachers will receive the usual – a family trip, visiting relatives, a trip to a local attraction, or a description of a day working for parents.
Some of the students have sprouted — gaining inches in height. There’s a reason parents do back to school shopping. Other things have sprouted and gained maturity.
Today’s photo was taken in late May. It looks pretty bleak. A hint of things to come but not a charming vista.
Giving a Hint
Spring and summer have worked magic in the orchard. Blossoms, leaves, fruit set and thinned. Solid globes growing on sunny days and through the warm nights. Roots drinking the warm rain to feed leaves and fruit. Harvest is coming.
Orchards are opening to the public. Early varieties are ready to harvest and others in queue behind. Visit an orchard. Drink in some fresh country air – it will have a note of crisp in a few more weeks. Enjoy. Learn. Savor fresh fruit of the land.
What sort of people start a new apple orchard? One answer is in Hiding Places. It’s available in both ebook and paperback formats.
Not all fishing is created equal.
Today the equipment includes rods and reels. Waders and bright artificial “flies” hooked to a vest decorate a solitary man along a trout stream. One or two humans share silence watching lines from opposite sides of a small boat.
In our modern era the incentive can be as much about going to a quiet place, enjoying the scenery and fresh air as much as bringing home supper.
This sculpture on a college campus reminds us of a distant past. Success meant a protein addition to parched corn. At least one thing remains the same. Technique is passed from one generation to another by imitation.
Fresh fish for supper?
You can get a whiff of a Friday fish fry in Starr Tree Farm. Available as ebook or paperback from Amazon or Barnes & Noble.
It’s pleasant here in the garden. My roots are in moist but well-drained soil. I lift my leaves to sunshine. My shy blossoms open on a calm afternoon.
To the casual observer I’m not doing much. Just standing in one place. It’s true that I’m not capable of walking. But I can bend in the breeze and seek out the best angle for the sun to strike the maximum number of leaves. Love that photosynthesis going on in all my green parts.
Today I have my blossoms open. I’d love to go to seed. (It’s an ambition for plants.) My scent is escaping, calling to my neighbors and visitors.
Oh….I’ve got one. Alighting, crawling, tickling all my blossom parts. If I had a voice I’d giggle. This is the best sort of day — when the honeybees visit.
Posted in Blog
Today we continue our look at sculpture in the public places of St. Louis. The Missouri Botanical Garden continues to be a rich source. Including this sleek, metal form.
What’s the first name or description that pops into your head?
A stylized version of a DNA model happened to be my first thought. Can you see it? Protein pairs spiraling to contain the secrets of the universe?
A party ribbon?
An invisible force ascending? Or is it descending?
I encourage you to find a piece of public art in your hometown and let it be a launch pad for the imagination.
One of the more photographed objects this summer has been the moon. Or should I say “super moon”. By now I think you’ve see video on the TV or still pictures on Facebook with the extra large, extra close, full moon framed by famous landmarks.
It’s a beautiful site. One of the few astronomical events enjoyable where artificial light distracts from planets and other transient objects. It hangs there, above the horizon as a yellow to orange disk pulling your attention. (Careful when driving.)
A few days ago, while out for my morning walk, I encountered it again. Large, white in a blue sky. I can hear it call — Hey! I’m more than a nightlight.
Super Morning Moon
Posted in Blog
Tagged Observations, Walk