Wednesday, January 28, 2009
The 6th Of The 6th?
Well now, if I'm interpreting this right, I've been challenged to one of those me-me sort of things (by a jolly and quite attractive group of Scandanavian garden bloggers) to post the sixth picture from my sixth album, and to comment on it; by sixth I'm guessing is meant the sixth group of pictures from the end of the camera uploads to my computer (if this isn't what I was supposed to do, it's too late now)! Following instructions has never been my strong suit, which explains a lot that has happened to me in my life. I blame it all on a head injury; I was bucked off a horse when I was a boy and was unconscious for quite a while after. I maintain I was a sweet and incisive child prior to that... or maybe my memory is just another victim of the head trauma.
Anyway, this is the 6th of the 6th (or at least I hope that's what we're talking about). It's a simple picture, taken just as dusk was settling into our little valley, with only a trace of pale winter light coming over the ridge to the west. This picture actually was taken right from where I am sitting now, banging on the keyboard. The wood fence is strung with Christmas lights, which Liz never wants me to take down after Christmas; she calls them "party lights" then, though since they are in our back yard in an empty valley, I don't know who is partying, unless it's the deer and other critters that call this valley home. The odd circle right in front of the lights is a brick fire pit, where we have bonfires in the summer, shooting off occasional fireworks to further annoy the neighbors on the far ridge. You can't really tell it very well from the picture, but the bottom of the ravine is actually the upper reaches of a four acre pond that borders our garden. The pond is twenty foot deep, filled with bass and bluegills, and some thirty year old grass carp roughly the size of large logs. We have a small canoe that we can launch on the pond to check out the resident fish and waterbirds. Ducks, geese, egrets, loons, herons, kingfishers, and the occasional eagle are to be found on or around the pond. One of the downsides is when a pair of Canadian geese set up their nest on the edge of the pond right by the garden, and every time they see you they start honking and flapping their wings. I can't really concede the garden to them for the whole spring, so when this happens it's what I guess you would call a wary and uneasy truce, at best.
Our nearest neighbors are at the top of the ridge seen beyond the pond; they have a house that looks rather like a modern art museum (all glass and raised on stilts). I've related before, that I was once talking to the elderly gal that lives there with her retired attorney husband. She was saying that it was so nice that they could look out their windows and see my woods and garden across the pond instead of looking at another monstrous house. I told her she ought to be careful looking over here, because it's a long ways from the garden back to our house, so I have been known to pee against the occasional tree out there. She said, "Well, I guess I need to buy a bigger pair of binoculars!" At the time, I took that as a compliment, then later when I thought about it, I wasn't so sure...
Now, I need to find six "volunteers" to do this same thing (and I know who just quickly logged off this post)!
Anyway, this is the 6th of the 6th (or at least I hope that's what we're talking about). It's a simple picture, taken just as dusk was settling into our little valley, with only a trace of pale winter light coming over the ridge to the west. This picture actually was taken right from where I am sitting now, banging on the keyboard. The wood fence is strung with Christmas lights, which Liz never wants me to take down after Christmas; she calls them "party lights" then, though since they are in our back yard in an empty valley, I don't know who is partying, unless it's the deer and other critters that call this valley home. The odd circle right in front of the lights is a brick fire pit, where we have bonfires in the summer, shooting off occasional fireworks to further annoy the neighbors on the far ridge. You can't really tell it very well from the picture, but the bottom of the ravine is actually the upper reaches of a four acre pond that borders our garden. The pond is twenty foot deep, filled with bass and bluegills, and some thirty year old grass carp roughly the size of large logs. We have a small canoe that we can launch on the pond to check out the resident fish and waterbirds. Ducks, geese, egrets, loons, herons, kingfishers, and the occasional eagle are to be found on or around the pond. One of the downsides is when a pair of Canadian geese set up their nest on the edge of the pond right by the garden, and every time they see you they start honking and flapping their wings. I can't really concede the garden to them for the whole spring, so when this happens it's what I guess you would call a wary and uneasy truce, at best.
Our nearest neighbors are at the top of the ridge seen beyond the pond; they have a house that looks rather like a modern art museum (all glass and raised on stilts). I've related before, that I was once talking to the elderly gal that lives there with her retired attorney husband. She was saying that it was so nice that they could look out their windows and see my woods and garden across the pond instead of looking at another monstrous house. I told her she ought to be careful looking over here, because it's a long ways from the garden back to our house, so I have been known to pee against the occasional tree out there. She said, "Well, I guess I need to buy a bigger pair of binoculars!" At the time, I took that as a compliment, then later when I thought about it, I wasn't so sure...
Now, I need to find six "volunteers" to do this same thing (and I know who just quickly logged off this post)!