Tales from the Garden

November has rolled around again, and this year it sure is a doozy, eh?   But putting my election day emotions on hold for a minute, I'm contemplating this:     In autumn, nature's palette is distinctly different than any other time of year, and I long to spend hours drinking in the beauty.  But alas, too many other things fill my days, and my thirst for time off from my "regular life" only grows.  Each morning when I awake, I see the brilliant sunrise with a crisp edge of frost making the leaves rain down from the Jujube and Apricot trees, and at day's end I see the golden angle of the sun beaming through the chartreuse and yellow leaves of the Cottonwood along Arivaca Creek.  In between, there are lists and chores, and distractions galore.    If I'm lucky, some of those distractions include butterflies and bees, flowers and birds.  If I'm not, they include politics and conflicts, anger and sadness.  And no matter what, even when I manage to cross off man

Last fall, I had two very magical encounters with vultures, and I am sharing them now in honor of this year's Arivaca Vulture Festival! On the morning of September 30th, I woke before dawn with the glow of the full moon coming through the windows. Known annually as the Harvest Moon, this one was also a "super moon", and I stepped out onto the patio to gaze upon it as it set over the giant Cottonwood trees.   Its brightness far out-shined the fading stars and the glow of dawn that was beginning on the east end of the sky. The breeze was crisp and cool, and the smell of fall leaves filled the air.  What an amazing time to be outside, with nothing but nature all around.  Then I saw that the vultures were out!  Hundreds of them were playing in the night wind, silently gliding, some only 50 feet over my head.  I had never seen such a sight.  On a typical morning, my routine includes getting up around dawn and having plenty of time to drink my morning coffee, watch the songb

This is Part 2 of the poem I wrote for the first "Arivaca Bards and Bratz" event on Oct. 1st 2023, accompanied by recent photos from our home garden and nearby natural areas: WHY AM I STILL HERE? Grey Hawks whistling overhead; Blue Grosbeaks and Lazuli Buntings; Coatimundi; Green-tailed Towhees and Summer Tanagers;   Roadrunners and Wild Turkeys on the patio; A coyote on the roof; Lucy’s Warblers; Hummingbirds by the hundreds;   Artichoke Agaves;      Purple Prickly Pears;      Monarchs and Milkweeds; Ginormous black bees and tiny black bees;               Good friends; Music in the dancehall; Gadsden Coffee every morning; Ebony’s jambalaya;         Thunder and lightning; Monsoon water in the big dip; Tall green grass waving in the wind;             Weathered grassland rustling in the wind; The open road; Sunsets stretching far and wide; Wall-to-wall stars; Baboquivari; And days like today.

The first Bards and Bratz event at the Arivaca Dancehall happened on the afternoon of October 1st, with the theme "How the Heck did I Get Here? and Why am I Still Here?"  I decided to write a poem for the occasion, and below is Part 1, accompanied by photos of the Arivaca Cienega taken in 1993 during the very first trip Uno and I made to this area: HOW DID I GET HERE?                   Frosty, pink dawns in the Cienega; Red-winged Blackbirds calling from the Cattails; Deer standing in knee-high March rain; New leaves on the Cottonwoods; Black Vultures playing with the wind; Ginormous Barrel Cactus; Mergansers and Buffleheads in the Willow Pond; Pied-bills in the Grebe Pond; Lark Sparrows darting in and out of the trails; White Kites and Northern Harriers hovering overhead; The warm warm sun, shining on Vermillion flycatchers; The bubbling of the creek over rocks and downed logs,   a ribbon of green along its edge; A Wilson’s Warbler la

After teaching classes for adults, children, and families in the PNW for 25+ years, I've decided to make a big change. I feel very lucky to have enjoyed so many years of in-person teaching as well as the recent years of online teaching, and am grateful to all the design, consultation, and education clients I've had over the years.  From now on, I'll continue doing in-person teaching in the desert southwest, where I've been living (and gardening) full time for the past 3 years, and part time for the past 8 years.    I'm looking forward to focusing more of my time on the Arivaca Pollinator Pathway, a volunteer project that I am spearheading, as well as doing more music and art! Of course, the PNW and my friends and family there, will always be very near and dear to my heart, and I look forward to future visits "up north", sandwiched before or after Arivaca's delightful summer monsoon season ❤️

 This summer has been a magnificent feast for the eyes, with an abundance of butterflies and bees in my home garden as well as in the Pollinator Garden at the Arivaca Dancehall.  In the midst of 19 months of hard and dusty work on the dancehall project, the sight of all this natural beauty has refreshed and renewed my aching body and brain more times than I can count.  I am grateful to all the winged wonders that have crossed my path during that time, and in so doing have brought their living color into my life and lightened my load in every way.  Below are some of the "flying jewels" that I have managed to photograph and video during the last couple of months.   These are actually Queen butterflies at the Arivaca Library :)