Putting the garden to bed


When winter’s chill at last draws near,

I put away summer that is so dear,

snipping dead plants over there and here,

putting the garden to bed.

A gnarled old maple drops a  leaf,

spent Day Lilies wither in a sheaf,

hostas hide yellowed leaves underneath,

putting the garden to bed.

Bright mums and sedum get a reprieve,

while dimmed summer daisies must take their leave,

and dead grass into the bin I heave,

putting the garden to bed.

As you can see, I love summer. Summer is the time when I can let  inside work slide. Piano practice music gathers dust on the rack.  Shirts awaiting the iron form first a pile, then a bunker. Junk mail piles up. Knitting sits idle. But summer novels get read and reread on warm sunny beaches and long airplane rides. I walk miles on the beach, feeling clean white Michigan sand beneath my toes.  But perhaps my favorite day-to-day part of summer is the garden. From pulling away wet dead leaves in the spring to reveal brave shoots peaking up from the cold ground, to deadheading purple petunias and red geraniums, to watching iridescent hummingbirds sip from purple fuchsia, I enjoy it all. My gardening time is about new life, growth, death, and rebirth. Each year the cycle begins anew, fresh and full of promise. And as autumn slips in, it is also about putting it all to bed, with the promise of spring to bring it all back to me again.

© Huffygirl 2016

Photos and original poem by Huffygirl ©2016.

 

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A Pair of Ducks: Third week, new camera


A pair of ducks, a pair of ducks, a most ingenious pair of ducks.

A pair of ducks, a pair of ducks, a most ingenious pair of ducks.

“A paradox, a paradox, a most ingenious paradox…” Pirates of Penzance, Gilbert and Sullivan

I took the new camera out on a sunny day in January with our first big, fluffy snow. I had the park to myself, except for this obliging pair of ducks, and caught some great snowy vistas, free of  footprints, save mine.

One summer’s day in November


Gusting breezes,  wind-swept sand, dark clouds rolling onto land,

Summer’s sun gives little heat, with winter’s sand beneath one’s feet.

Waves roll in as sunset looms, as winter lowers its darkening boom.

Waves crash in for day’s last light, as summer bids its last goodnight.

© Huffygirl 2012

(Summer returned to Michigan for one day only, when temperatures reached 70 degrees in the aftermath of Super Storm Sandy, November 11, 2012.)

One summer’s day in November, original poem by Huffygirl, © 2012)

Do not adjust your screen


Don’t worry – there is nothing wrong with your computer screen. It’s snowing on Huffygirl’s Blog, now through January 4th. I hope you enjoy seeing some snow that you don’t have to shovel. I’ll also be putting up some festive background colors too,  to go with the snow and the season. 

You don’t even have to go outside to play with  this snow – just move your mouse a bit and  see what happens. 

Enjoy the snow while it lasts – it’ll be gone before you  know it, just like the real snow (we hope!)

© Huffygirl 2011

In honor of the first day of summer, presenting: winter!


Aw, come on,  you know you’ve missed it. Maybe not right away. Probably on that first or second really hot, humid day, when you could cut the humidity with a knife, your house felt like a sauna and  the candy bar your kids left in the car melted on the front seat. Yup. Winter. That coolly refreshing time of year when the air is brisk and…

Oh who am I kidding? I don’t miss it either. I want to languish in every bit of the sunny warmth of summer every minute that I can. I want to be outside all day, instead of running from car to work to house fleeing from the cold. I just can’t get enough of it. This is the only time of year when I can get away with wearing only one sweater instead of two, and by gosh, I’m ready for it. But in the meantime, enjoy my winter pics and hope that the weather they harbinge is at least a good six months away.

An icy meal.

Mr. Snowman's snow pile.

Iced branches.

Huffygirl’s Ode to Winter

The ice, the snow, the slush, the sleet, you run inside to get some heat, the icy falls beneath your feet, winter.

The wind is cold, the trees are bare, there’s icicles within your hair, the weather’s bad, tho’ forecast “fair”, winter.

Your driveway is a pile of slush, fingers so cold they’ve turned to mush, the chilly sun the cold has hushed, winter.

Yet sun peeks out ‘neath winter’s glare, a hint of spring is in the air, and fin’lly solstice winnows fair, winter summer!

Happy summer sailing!

© Huffygirl 2011

(Ode to Winter, original poem by Huffygirl)