gardening

The Fairies that Came in the Night

Posted by Barbara Techel

The Fairies that Came in the Night

I heard the whistle of a teapot and the smell of coffee brewing. But it wasn’t coming from inside my home this morning. Perplexed, scratching my head, I then thought I heard the faint sound of giggles.

What could it be? I wondered.

I quickly dismissed it thinking it was just my imagination. It was time to get on with my day and the garden hoses needed to be turned on to give the shrubs and flowers their special blend of java for the day.

As I opened the front door, I swore I could smell the sweet scent of bacon — it made the inside of my nose do a little happy dance.  And again, I heard the sweetest giggles. I must be losing my mind, I thought.

As I stepped into my gardens I inwardly let out a squeal of delight realizing I indeed was not losing my mind!  There were camps of Fairy houses scattered here, there and everywhere. That was it!

They must have come in the dark of night with the moon lighting their way, the tiny caravan, and quietly set up their villages of campers, vans, and tents — and they were having a grand ole time as they giggled and chattered among themselves cooking up a breakfast feast.

Trying not to be seen, I quietly and most lightly tip-toed among the wee villages taking great delight in my new friends that had come in the night — the fairies who sent shivers of magic down my spine.

Oh dear, I thought again, my mind is working overtime. I scolded myself that fairies really don’t exist. You silly girl!

And just then, swathed in a silk lavender scarf around her wee body, her wings glistening with sparkles from the sun, a rose in her auburn hair, she ever so gently landed on my shoulder and said in the most dreamy voice, I’m here to remind you that you are one of us. Don’t ever forget that the magic lives in within you and that your imagination is the key to all the places you can go whenever you want to. Take joy, be joy and watch the sparks of magic make their way out into the world to land where they may  — so others will come to know us also — and when they find trust and faith in us — they will surely find it within themselves too.

And with a sprinkle of pink fairy dust she left in her wake and flew down back to her tiny village I knew without a shadow of doubt that my soul was just given a gift of what is real if we wish it to be.

fairy

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Morning Glory. The Bridge.

Posted by Barbara Techel

Morning Glory. The Bridge.

I didn’t even notice as I walked the twelve steps from my patio door across the deck to my writing cottage early this morning. Once inside I rolled out my yoga mat, turned on some instrumental music on Pandora and moved through my yoga poses. I was lost in many different thoughts I was processing as I often do.

I came to my favorite pose – tree pose – and looked out the west side of my window to see what I could land my eye on to concentrate. And there they were in all their splendor! I was so thrilled to see that my morning glories had finally bloomed that I said out loud, “Oh Morning Glory! How I love you!” Out of tree pose I came, grabbed my camera and headed out to snap some pictures.

And look who else was just as delighted to see the Morning Glory—Ms. Bee!

All summer I waited for these beauties to open. Next to the Ranachulus, Morning Glories are my favorite. Could it be because of the fact they are periwinkle—my favorite color—Oh yes, this is true!

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And it occurred to me how the Morning Glory is a bridge—a bridge between the last beautiful moments of summer to the glorious fall days that will soon be here.

Perhaps I need to rename my website/blog to Joyful Paws and Petals?!  Both bring me so much JOY!

Morning glory is the best name, it always refreshes me to see it. ~Henry David Thoreau

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Blossoming BoBo. Plus a Welcome Surprise.

Posted by Barbara Techel

Blossoming BoBo. Plus a Welcome Surprise.

The joy continues to blossom around my writing cottage and home with all the landscaping we had put in mid-May. Before this, I’d never heard of a Limelight BoBo Hydrangea tree. That is it in the center of the photo, blooming so beautifully.

As I watered some plants yesterday I heard a familiar tweet, tweet, tweet.  Then I saw Mama Robin fly from the BoBo tree into the birch trees across the way. Could it be I wondered?

I scampered over to the tree trying not to get my hopes up. Last week Sunday, my sister-in-law, Donna and I were exchanging bird stories — she loves the birds in her yard too and takes utmost care of them.  She shared a story of a bird leaving its nest of which she felt bad about thinking she’d caused it to leave too soon — just like what happened with me and the baby Robin that bounced out the tree when I was trying to tighten the twine to hold the tree straight.

But she said not to take the nest out of the tree yet—that Mama Robin will likely return. She said she will fluff up the nest before laying eggs again. Sure enough, I saw that about three days ago when I checked on the nest.  The grasses, and whatever natural materials she used to originally build the nest appeared to be a bit messy —and “fluffed up.” It reminded me of when we change the sheets on the bed!

So when I heard the tweet, tweet, tweet, yesterday I was pretty sure it was her warning call.  And sure enough, when I peeked, there were two new pretty blue eggs! Oh what a welcome surprise!  A new little set of young ones will soon be here!

And this time you can be sure I won’t try and adjust the twine on the tree. Lesson learned!

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