In My Rain-Battered Garden — Nothing Is Forever, Not Even Those Poppies

camellia blossom in rain puddle. Photo by Barbara Falconer Newhall

A camellia -- one of the dozens that hit the pavement today.

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

Jerome, that famously abstemious fourth- and fifth-century scholar and saint, is said to have kept a human skull on his desk to remind him of his mortality.

Those of us with gardens don’t need a skull. We’ve got stuff dying on us every day. [Read more...]

EmailFacebookTwitterStumbleUponPrintFriendlyShare

It’s Spring in Our Brilliant, Bursting, Buzzing Front Yard

 By Barbara Falconer Newhall

When I think of March, I think of mud. Half frozen, slurpy, messy, car-stuck-in-the-road mud.

That’s because I grew up in Michigan, where March is the most unnerving month of the year. One day it’s warmish and the world smells like spring. The next day the thermometer drops, it’s winter again and odors vanish in the cold. [Read more...]

EmailFacebookTwitterStumbleUponPrintFriendlyShare
<?php if ( function_exists( 'yoast_analytics' ) ) { yoast_analytics(); } ?>