When you watch a milkweed seed pod burst and scatter its tiny dancing seeds to the wind, it is easy to understand how nature balances the strong and the delicate, and finds finds the most elegant of solutions to the problem of continued existence.
Rosemary, thyme, Maldon sea salt. Ready to be dried and stored. Image: Su Leslie 2020
One of my brother in law’s exes first introduced me to homemade herb salt, and it seemed rather exotic at the time. In reality, it’s easy and fairly quick. The flavour combinations are, if not endless, then extensive. Rosemary and thyme appeals at the moment as both are abundant in my garden. And both are wonderfully aromatic.
It’s too hot to move much at the moment, but I was happy to take a short wander up the stairs to this Japanese tea house.
Shame there wasn’t a cup of tea waiting for me.
The tea house is a new addition to the Sculpture Park at Waitakaruru Arboretum, near Morrinsville, NZ. The park is privately owned, but open to the public to enjoy art in the beautiful setting of an old quarry that has been transformed into an arboretum.
Although the weather’s turned a bit meh, our craving for fish and chips got the better of us last night. And the fact that the best place to buy them is two thirds of the way between our house and Muriwai Beach meant that a picnic was in order.
As usual, within about three seconds of us opening the wrapping, the birds arrived. First the sparrows, then the gulls. And while the sparrows just hop up as close as they dare and look pleadingly, these gulls tried the alternate approaches of dive-bombing and studied nonchalance.
Neither worked. And the food was delicious.
New growth on the smaller of my road-trip hydrangeas. Image: Su Leslie 2020
The hydrangea bushes (well, full-sized plant and little stem) brought back from Whanganui are both looking healthy and have new growth.
New flowers on the larger road-trip hydrangea. Image: Su Leslie 2020
Not quite knowing how to care for my gifted plants, I’ve read and tried to follow advice both online and in print. For now, it seems that lavish amounts of attention and water have been enough.
A belated contribution to the Ragtag Daily Prompt | hope
In my new spirit of proactive hopefulness, I’m going to believe that what is shut will eventually open.
Pohutukawa flowers. Image: Su Leslie 2019
My computer has died, making photo editing difficult. So more pics of New Zealand’s flourishing native Christmas tree I’m afraid.
Advent Calendars weren’t part of my Presbyterian upbringing; so I was largely unaware of them until the boy-child was little and he began to receive as gifts the kind with little chocolates behind each window. Then a cousin sent him a lovely quilted version with numbered pockets to be filled with goodies.
Despite its Winnie the Pooh fabric, the Calendar remained in use until my son left home, and probably would still be pressed into service except that I can’t find it.
For the last couple of years I sought alternative solutions; the row of goodie bags that could be hung in a flat bedroom, a box with numbered envelopes.
I’m not sure whether it’s a lack of imagination or a general ambivalence towards Christmas, but this year we’re going calendar-free and I wonder if he will even notice.