wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


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A Tale of Two Dogwoods

Big Dawg

 

Big Dawg has been here forever, growing naturally from some seeds that birds probably brought in. It has revived from being almost crowded out by other trees at its base. My friend Pat cut away many of those small shrubs and trees trying to steal Big Dawg’s nutrients and water. He freed the area around it so it got more sunlight, and it is saying thank you now by reaching up tall and blooming its appreciation.

 

Little Dawg

Little Dawg lives in a shadier place and is a more recent planting, bought from a nursery. It is slower to grow in this semi shady spot, but it seems to be quite healthy. You can see Little Dawg if you click on the dogwood posting  I made two years ago. I still am fascinated by what I found out at that time about the Fibonacci number sequence and how it relates to nature. It will be familiar to my faithful followers from that time, but the robin sitting in the arms of Little Dawg is worth a second look.

It’s Dogwood Time


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Trees

Can you imagine how shocked I was to learn, after many decades of knowing about Joyce Kilmer’s poem “Trees,” that Joyce was a man? Yes, Alfred Joyce Kilmer. He was born in the USA in New Jersey, Dec. 6,  1886. He died from a sniper’s bullet in the Second Battle of the Marne on July 30, 1918. He was only 31 years old. 

Basically he was best known for his poem about trees, which follows here:

Trees

by Joyce Kilmer

 

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

 

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

 

A tree that looks at God all day

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

 

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

 

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who ultimately lives with rain.

 

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

Then along came Frederic Ogden Nash, New York writer of many funny poems, with a parody of Kilmer’s poem “Trees.”

Song of the Open Road

by Ogden Nash (1902 – 1971)

 

I think that I shall never see

A billboard lovely as a tree.

Indeed, unless the billboards fall

I’ll never see a tree at all.

 

Please visit my inspiration to do this post about trees, “Autumn Ash Trees” by Lynette D’Arty-Cross https://lynettedartycross.com/2025/10/09/autumn-ash-trees/


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Like Watching Paint Dry

Might as well do my nails while I’m watching the walnuts dry.

In the lower level, by the woodstove, the walnuts are bagged and almost ready to be hung above the woodstove to finish drying. I think I’ll have to get another burlap bag or maybe two more, to hold all those nuts as they dry. All the messy work of scraping the black goo from the shells has been done. Now we wait. Most days, I sneak a few to bring out to the squirrels.

I wonder if there will be any walnuts left by Christmas.

 


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Land of Plenty

Guess what I’ve been doing in between trying to get  photos of Crispin helping himself to the nuts on our two trees.

It’s that time of year when everywhere you look there is work to do, but you know you’ll be glad you did it later.

The squirrels have been working hard to clean out the nut trees, and I finally decided I should go out there and seriously pick up the fallen nuts, and shake the trees to get more of them down. The pears, apples, and plums are a bonus (from their own trees, of course). May we never go hungry.

 

Harvest time is very fine,

Though my grapes won’t turn to wine,

Could it be that I’ve been grazing,

Eating all the grapes? Amazing!

 

But the hazelnuts are here,

Glad that they don’t disappear,

Good to know the squirrels will share,

There’s enough and some to spare.