Yesterday when I went into my back yard to play around with close-ups some more, my first thought was what a mess. The top picture doesn't adequately capture the mess because my camera gravitated towards the monster crepe myrtle as it tends to do this time of year. Even so, it's obvious I have quite a jumble of plants and vines and trees.
As an exercise, I decided to focus on the feeders that are fairly easy to photograph. Unlike the birds that won't let me get too close (smart birds), the smaller feeders could care less for the most part. While I was snapping pictures, it crossed my mind that my backyard is not only a mess, it's a Mess Hall. Providing food for a wide range of life. Yep, a weak pun, sorry about that.
Apart from the mosquitoes, most of the wild life in my garden, including a host of bees in different sizes and shapes, find so much to eat that I'd have to run into one, for them to bother with me. I don't even pay any attention to the bees anymore. I ignore them and they ignore me because the flowers are what they are interested in, not stinging me.
I have seriously considered moving to a small apartment from time to time. As long as I had a balcony for a container garden, I think it might be a good move for me. Dealing with 23 years of accumulated stuff would perhaps be the biggest challenge but leaving my garden would also be hard. I'm still relatively young (almost 50) but I have been thinking more in terms of convenience and easy maintenance as a result of my melanoma diagnosis and even more as a result of the issues following my lymph node dissection.What worries me the most about moving is what will happen to the Mess Hall and the shelter to so many different species. I envision the overgrown bushes being whacked down to the point that a zillion birds would lose their shelter. It's silly considering the fact that this happens on such a huge scale when a forest is turned into a subdivision and much of the wildlife thriving here would move on (barring the ones killed by pesticides and herbicides which would probably be used whole sale by most people trying to tame my big old mess).
The fact that I'm thinking like this must mean I'm not ready to make a move. Let's face it, even someone as odd as me isn't going to stay put so an ant has a colorful flower that sets off it's sleek profile. It's odd how attached I've become to where I live. This was never supposed to be my one and only house. When we bought this house in 1984, we planned on moving in 5 to 10 years. Particularly strange that I'd hesitate about making a move when my house and garden are both seriously a mess, not well maintained, cluttered, and slightly dilapidated. But it's my mess as well as home to countless living entities who find shelter in my garden.
I LOVE visiting your blog. The writing is great and the photos are incredible. I always feel a sense of peace and calm while I'm here.
I also liked seeing the picture from when you were growing up. Your daughter looks just like you.
Thanks a bunch. I appreciate your saying that.
Take Care, Carver
I can see the inner Buddhist coming out in you! On a similar note, your post reminded me of this- while I was in San Diego, I was helping a friend paint her place. She was hounding me about how long it was taking me, but I had to keep stopping to move ants out of the way. It was straight out of "7 years in Tibet." Okay, not really, but it was funny.
I love the image of you moving ants out of the way while you paint. I'm glad you mentioned "Seven Years in Tibet" because I meant to read the book after I saw the movie and never did. If I don't forget again, I'll have to read it. Take care, Carver
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