Some may call it foraging: I love to stroll around the Back 40 for breakfast. In past lives I was the "Gatherer," and it seems that some one else did the "hunting," anyway, I hope so. Or maybe I did, because I have an uncanny knowledge of how it is done, the gutting, the skinning, the carving, the curing. Today I prefer peaches. Tree-ripened.
The berries are plentiful and delicious this year. Yes, they make the best breakfast. This afternoon I intend to begin the picking in earnest. Last year's 5 gallons was not enough! I cannot say no to a Blackberry Cobbler request, that is just how it is.
This row of beauties has materialized since yesterday! They are called "Yellow Leopards" and are an ancient yellow bush bean. So far, they look amazing and strong. The packet says to enjoy them in all three stages: green, semi-dry and dry! I cannot wait.
Of course, no garden is complete without its volunteer zucchini. Here it is, blooming furiously with many little zucchinis in there. Some eat the blossoms, but I cannot bring myself to this, it just doesn't seem right.
These last two photos are what I want to celebrate with orchestra and trumpet! Butternut squash. I see why in many First People cultures the squash is a symbol of all that is good and well. The vine is lush, the blossoms prolific, sensuous, laden with sex and pollen. Have you ever stopped and watched drunken Bumblebees waddling over the squash blossom parts? Mercy.
Then there is the ever-present spiral. Tendrils. Tender tendrils. Fuzzy.
This squash patch was not looking all that great a few weeks ago. It was yellowish and feeble looking. I mulched the hills with oat straw, and very quickly they shed the helpless look and took off. They are slipping beyond the mulch, looking like they want to head out to the orchard and lay their fruit in the grass. I am indulgent. Go ahead, hide Butternut squashed all over the place.
I was going to post about 'hidden beliefs' because that's the subject which has been bonking around in my alleged mind. Seems that the pull of the garden is much more better for now. Maybe later the bonking will make its way out of there...later.
Happy day to you. Blessed breakfasts.
Swallowtail Butterflies are fresh and new by the first of April. Larabee is a hidden valley created by the Eel River. Perhaps I have lived here since time began, a butterfly in the willows on the banks of a Northern river.