As a serious bonus, on our way into the hills we asked a park ranger what she had spotted. A bald eagle, just fledged: this is year 2 of the reintroduction program, and two of this year's four chicks are just old enough to be flying. We watched for a bit, looking at his back in the distance, wondering if we'd see movement, then headed on up.
This afternoon, I planted the periwinkle (Vinca sp.) I got at the Greenmarket yesterday. Six four-packs this time, which was enough to fill the area under one tree, with an extra left to drop in a gap under the other (where I planted earlier). I have a mix of white, pink, and magenta, in what I hope is a pleasing pattern--I'll be surer when they all open. If all goes well, a year from now it'll be a thorough mix-up of color, covering most if not all of that area, and the other tree will be a carpet of green and magenta.
[Edit/addendum: Papersky, is this where you got the name Vincans?]
I'm feeling stressed, for what I think are unrelated reasons, but digging is as good as lifting weights--and, weirdly, better than gathering berries, delightful as just-picked ripe fruit is--for my mood.
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Re: Raspberries are gooood!
A tour of the black caps with an eye towards devouring them straight from the plant might be possible.
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Re: Raspberries are gooood!
And as an addendum to that, I tried to grow raspberries in our backyard in my teens. After three or four summers, we had a few scraggly plants, and no fruit. (Then my parents sold the house, so I don't know what happened.) The next-door neighbors had fine fruitful raspberries. So did my friend Veronica at the other end of the block. Then again, we never got any carrots, when we tried that. I know more now, like the value of fertilizer.
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Did I name the Vincans after the flower?
Well I never heard of the American flower until after the books were in print, so it makes sense to me.