Lisa Papp's Blog

I have the loveliest sunflower this year. Tall, big flowers, and branches like trees.
It came from a packet called “organic mix”. Inside were several seeds of different sizes and color. None of them had pictures of 8 glorious sunflowers growing like a tree.
Seeds don’t do that. They don’t say, “hey, look at me, wait till you see this.” Or maybe they do. If you listen closely.  
If you get to know them.
Maybe all that magic’s humming to you after all. And you can hum right back.
(I watched the goldfinch walk across the topmost flower this morning, checking on the seeds. Not ready yet. And my hummingbird visits each flower in turn. She must find something irresistible inside those big happy faces.)

It’s September - Anthea and Marigold gather and sort seeds. And I have a feeling they know exactly what’s inside each one!

This is the lily pod seed.
I am fascinated with seeds. This time of year, they’re everywhere. Little maracas on the ends of my lily stems, long dangling pods on my cleome, and the teardrop jewels from the morning glory.
It is fascinating to see them all. It’s a song of abundance. You can hold an entire field in your hand. Mother Nature is not stingy. Not at all. 
From one seed – a thousand.




And she’s crafty too. The hickory nut is a clever arrangement of nimble hinges that lead to the treasure within.  













Zinnias, so delicate, they feel and look like tiny scraps of tissue in your hand. Cosmos can be gathered, and scattered for that matter, by simply brushing over their dried faces.….long, slender, crescent moons – how could that be a seed?  How could feathery leaves and pink and white flowers sit inside that tiny crescent moon? It must be a fairytale.

No, ….. magic.

No, ……Love.   Yeah, that must be the answer.







This is the morning glory seed.


And this, the clever milkweed.


I don’t grow impatiens from seeds, but I do love playing with the seed pods. The tiniest brush and POP! the pillow explodes, turning inside out, sending seeds everywhere. Clever strategy.  Like the milk weed – each seed comes equipped with its own fluffy white parachute. A gust of wind and off he goes, sailing who knows where.

                                 Anthea & Marigold welcome the new Bloodroot


It is time for the spring flowers to show their faces.  The bloodroot with it’s broad white petals and narrow stem. They decorate the rocky ditches along side my morning walk. If you dig one up, you will see the tuberous root “bleeds” red when disturbed. It can be used as a natural dye for wool yarns. I have 4 or 5 in my grove that transplanted quite happily, and I adore them this time of year.
There is also the lovely Rue Anemone. Small, delicate white flowers perch on fragile stems. The leaves resemble a kitty’s paw!

The leaves of the bloodroot, a lily pad.

Rue Anemone




It is also time for the Spring Beauty to remind us that spring always follows winter – even very tough winters. Sweet, daisy-like white petals are decorated with the finest pinstripe of pink that you need to get up close and personal to appreciate. 

Spring Beauty

These flowers sing in the breeze…… hang in there a little longer, look what’s ahead…… That’s the message of spring……hang in there, trust in the unseen, it is more glorious than you can imagine.

Marigold is always ready to help with nest building.  Here he helps the Mrs. Blue Gray Gnatcatcher.


Working together, building a nest goes quickly.  Here is the Mr. Blue Gray Gnatcatcher.....notice the darker stripe above his eye.

My little gnatcatcher visits every day. He’s fond of the coconut fibers that line my hanging baskets.
I would very much like to see the nest he is creating – I understand it’s hidden away on a single, slender branch. A marvel of grasses and fibers held in place with spider webs!
Mother Nature at it again.
Something for everyone.
What would our homes look like if we formed them with the gifts that surround us?  
Surely mine would have sprigs of clover decorating the roof. The walls, red and silver maple with a splash of sassafras. Creeping thyme would carpet my floor while lavender sweetened my pillow.  
Hickory to steady the corners – and in every branch, a bird.
The robin for my morning song, the chickadee for noon,The peepers chirp my lullaby,
Beneath the Silver Moon.

Anthea & Marigold welcome the brave little snowdrop.
She had to be very patient … reaching through the snow … waiting for the sun to clear a path.  Then, when the world was perfectly ready for her, she arrives! 

Celebrate Spring!

The flash of cerulean wings in morning sunis like a glimpse of heaven.You never tire of it.
Cooler than sapphire,Warmer than the summer sky.It is a message of Joy, of Life,And now, of moving on.

Anthea and Marigold bid farewell to the bluebirds. Five sky-blue eggs have grown into exquisite birds. We watched them hatch, witnessed busy parents feeding, and teaching the young ones to fly.
 I miss them already; time to set summer free. But isn’t that the way of things. Enjoy, let go. Enjoy, let go.



The Great Circles always work this way. 
It is true with loveIt is true with the seasons
It is true with all your gifts….set them free.  Watch their flash of brilliance delight the world. Watch them circle back to bless you, again and again…

I have a Gratitude Bench in the meadow and there I sit,letting whatever wants to come, come. . .
A song sparrow making notes in the branches behind me,
the wingspan of a turkey vulture soaring overhead,
A Ruby Crowned Kinglet, swift as a fairy, comes to say hello.  He knows he is one of my favorites, and he knows where to find me.  His diminutive size says nothing about his personality.  With wings like a hummingbird, he hovers about the goldenrod, though for bugs or seeds I could not tell. 
There is no fear.  He simply searches out what he knows he will find.
A fascinating movie he makes.  The white ring around his eye, the streak of red that makes him royalty.
He is a welcome visitor, gracing the meadow only during migration.  He has a brethren, the Golden Crowned Kinglet, which I have yet to see.  Perhaps if I wait long enough, I will create one.

The bench always fills.

.

If the angels are smiling, the bluebirds will nest here as they have the past 4 years.

They are a glorious bunch.

A busy bunch.

Striking in their summer blue.

The sun plays tricks on their backs

making an already radiant blue shimmer

like the sea.

Catching the light, and throwing it back

A shared gift, I suppose --

That sun smiling down,

the blue saying Yes!

Thank goodness for the peace makers

My dear snowdrops come with a history. They were gifted to me from a dear friend who lived her young life in the scilla covered slopes of England.

A life of fairies and beautiful legends.

A place where make believe and reality were content to sit side by side without all the traditional arguing you sometimes see in modern times.

No, these snowdrops are the real thing . . .

Kissed by legend,

Bound by the ancient oath,

Filled with lullabies, nurturing stories of a better time

deep, deep within their roots.

I lay asleep, one cat curled like a full moon in my arm,
another by my knees. The third watching with my husband out the window.
"It's the eclipse."
Oh!
I unraveled myself and watched the Moon shadowed over;
Our Earth and Sun working in unison
It was beautiful.
Back to bed
Up again as the veil moved on
An arc of light!
glowing brightly
beautifully -
All is well
the Moon remains
as our light; hidden then rejoiced
It was beautiful