Remembering to notice

The flock of turkeys drifted up the driveway out of morning mist but efforts to photograph them were somewhat frustrated by the presence in the window of yucca seed pods.

The birds, however, seemed to be progressing toward the house, so I’d get a better chance as they got closer, but that plan was squashed by the arrival around the corner of Ralph, looking for a bite of breakfast.

So as not to scare the turkeys, Grant gently opened the storm door for me to sneak out with raisins while he rushed to peel the boy’s boiled egg.

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Morning rounds had been postponed earlier pending daylight as I am loath to stagger about in darkness but present demand for my offerings is sadly sparse, so I was unlikely to get complaints about the lateness of my delivery.

Ralph seems the more needy of my friends just now. Every time he comes by he leaves me a handful of feathers to add to my collection and this morning he looked quite dishevelled.

But we had a long talk and I told him he’s a handsome boy. It looks as if his crown is growing back and hopefully he will soon have his full costume sorted out. We are seeking a home for him but as we don’t know when he will be around or for how long, it is rather complicated.

In the meantime, I decided to deal with the yucca seed pods so, clippers in hand, I went to take care of them, but the job didn’t get done…

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How could anybody undo such fine work?

As long as I had the clippers out, I might as well cut the flowers that had gone over...

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Which is when I met up with this fine fellow.

A Banded garden spider. With a face like a Boston terrier. Don’t you think?

Well alright. Laying the clippers down, I went in search of photos to take, which are never in short supply on a moist morning.

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First I took another view of Mr Spider.

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Until well into my 60’s I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as a spider, even a small one. But acquiring a garden started me thinking differently. For a start, I learned to accept slugs and weeds. Rather than go to war, I agreed to a truce. They could stay.

Although I feared spiders and would request their removal, I didn’t want them killed. Living with a garden, I became accustomed to incursions from outside. If a spider came into view, I kept an eye on it and if it came too close, I might take a piece of paper and fend it off, but I no longer had nightmares about the thing crawling on me in the night.

Some spiders can kill you, certainly, but most are perfectly harmless. I had a talk with myself. What exactly did I imagine would happen to me if a spider crawled on me? Why did I imagine a spider would want to?

Spider bites can be painful but they bite in self-defence and I had no plans to harm one.

A wolf spider or tarantula would freak me out still, although Grant tells of the delight he felt, having one of the latter crawl across his hand. Maybe I’d think about it? After a stiff drink.

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In principle, I was never afraid of mice. As a little girl, I owned a hamster after all, which was very mouse-like. I just didn’t want them running around because I pictured them climbing up my trouser leg, but again – why would they?

It wouldn’t do to live in the country if you are afraid of mice. They are everywhere and it seems to be impossible to mouse-proof a house. We had 13 cats when we came here and that did nothing to discourage rodents.

“We were here first!” their shop steward advised.

If they were prepared to take their chances, so be it. I will admit that it took getting used to the carnage, but the corpses get put out on a tree stump where a passing bird finds itself a nice snack. Occasionally, I’m able to rescue the mouse from such a sticky fate.

The exercise entertains the cats and keeps them fit.

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Very, very many years ago, I was encouraged to touch a snake. It was a venomous pit viper, but it was coiled up on an alter, doped up by the smoke of incense, so it was hardly a courageous act and I was quite relieved to be done with our visit to the snake temple.

We saw snakes from time to time in Asia and they did sometimes come into houses. I was reading one afternoon on my bed and hearing an unusual noise, looked up to see a snake curling around a curtain toward me. I called my mother who for once did not know what to do, so she called my father who said:

“What are you telling me for?”

Our maid dealt with the snake and afterwards, looking down at the lifeless body she said it was just a baby, a harmless grass snake. I have always felt guilty about that.

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Although we’ve enjoyed good weather this has been a lack lustre summer in the garden and it seems to be drawing to a premature close. Even the black-eyed Susans are giving up early, despite a few buds popping up here and there.

The packets of wildflower seeds Grant planted in the old vegetable plot mostly grew nothing but tall green leaves. The seeds he grew in a planter turned out to be basil which is nice if you have a use for it, but not very colourful.

The sunflowers grew way too tall, the flowers too heavy, so they drooped and became infested with worms. We scattered the seeds hoping that some creature may find nourishment.

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Not quite everything failed. Here and there little white flowers appeared and still bloom.

The app on my phone had trouble identifying the flower because of the dew drops, but I remembered that this is sweet alyssum.

An unassuming little flower that catches the dew so delicately.

If only one remembers to notice.

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