Lean In

More snow photos. 

You might be thinking, 

UGH. 

Yes, I know. I feel it too. 

In Kentucky, we're in a season of possible snow 

and overall gray gloom, 

with random dashes of spring. 

So while we're still in winter, 

let's intentionally lean into its wonder— 

Heaps of delicate snow-crystal creations. 

Feather-like frozen fluff. 

Frost-gilded leaves of yester-season.

Because soon and very soon, spring will arrive

 and winter will be over. 

“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,

At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,

When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,

And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”

- C. S. Lewis

 

Wonder Sparks

It may not be smart to stand under an icicle to get a photo like this one. 

But if you're prone to wonder as you wander, 

you'll do the silliest things to capture a spark of it for your own. 

Winter in Kentucky pares away every frill boasted by warmer seasons.

Without blooms, bugs, or buds for marvelment, 

you have to work harder to discover and enjoy natural wonders.

* I think it's worth the effort. *

Please, Please ...

Recently a dear friend asked me if I've ever eaten fiddleheads. 

Have I ever consumed miniature packets of potential, bundles of soon-to-unfurl beauty?

No way, no how.

Ferns are among the most tenacious of garden ladies. 

While other plants continue to snooze under winter blankets of cold leaves and chilly air, 

ferns stretch their lovely limbs and gather weakly-warm sunbeams. 

And like this intrepid example, they grow anywhere a spore may land—even on

 the face of a brick wall in Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia. 

My vacationing family kept walking while I lagged behind to admire, and be inspired by, this 

persistent plant—untended, unplanned, and possibly only appreciated by me.

And now, you. 

There's much to learn from this unlikely teacher, the humble fern. 

 So please, please—don't eat the fiddleheads. 

***

Other garden ladies I've observed here and here. 

Toadstool Surprise

Someday when you're out walking your combo dog* on a crisp fall day,

you might see one of these ordinary brown toadstools.

It happened to me. 

When I stooped to see a bit better, tiny light-sparkles bounced from micro-thin

spider strands stretched across the cap.  

What a clever decoration!

From bended knees, I peeked farther under the cap to see sunshine-lit gills.

This often despised-sprout looked more and more like a welcoming shelter.

And from a ground-level view (belly)—what an impressive structure! 

The perfect place for tiny folk to relax on a sunny fall afternoon. 

At least it was ... until my combo dog rushed back to see what was so interesting. 

Turns out toadstools are delicate, not dog-proof at all. 

Back to walking. 

* What's a combo dog?

That's what you get when you adopt a puppy from the local animal rescue people. 

They tell you it's a Labrador retriever, but it turns out to be a

beagle-y, Australian shepherd-ish, terrier-type of mutt. 

A cute, smart, adorable one.