We were walking in an arboretum last week and as we went near the edge of a pond, our daughter caught sight of something, reached into the water and grabbed it. “It’s a wandering garter snake!” was the excited announcement. You expect college to bring changes to your children, but this was a fairly large shift that I didn’t see coming. This same child used to scream every time an Asian beetle flew in her direction. I’m pretty sure that in a not-too-distant day in the past, she and I would have hit high C in perfect unison if we’d spotted a snake in our midst. Chalk it up to the herpetology class she’s taking (along with her husband and our youngest son). The study of reptiles and amphibians has brought about this astonishing transformation in our fair young maiden. Who knew?

The snake curled around her hand and then began gripping and squeezing it, apparently not too happy with its current celebrity status (I took a lot of photos). We bid it a fond “adieu,” and went on our way, marveling, mostly about the snake. But me – I was marveling about my daughter, she who was now the Snake Handler. I doff my hat to her.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. Snakes – ugh.

Years ago we bought a whole bunch of tulip bulbs and planted them around our berm in the fall. We thought we were making a garden display of beautiful colors. Instead, it turns out that we were providing a delicious midnight feast for the deer in the spring. Some tulips always came up, but it seemed that each year, the tulip salad bar got more popular with our Bambi friends. We found something called “Deer Scram” and sprinkled it liberally around the tulips. This concoction consists of animal blood, meat meal (whatever that is), garlic, pepper and clove and is designed to give the deer a reason to pause and go to the neighbor’s tulip salad bar instead. It only lasts until it rains, however, which necessitated us remembering to reapply the stuff. Eventually, the tulips lost heart in the whole existential crisis of their lives and mostly quit showing up. A few years ago, we had all the plantings on the berm removed (it had become a wildly successive weed garden) and seeded it back to grass.

I took this photo of the only two tulips in our yard this year. They are volunteers that have been showing up in the same spot year after year, apparently under the radar of the deer (shhh…don’t tell!). I salute them and give hearty thanks to the Lord of the Tulips for making something so ravishingly beautiful. Spring is a fetching lass, indeed.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. Thanks for reading my blog. Assuming someone is, in fact, reading it.

‘Tis a jay of blue,
Looking at peels of orange,
Near, and yet so far.

It’s my last haiku,
At the very last minute,
Of this Tuesday night.

It is hard to quit
Counting syllables to make
More and more haiku.

Help! I’m trapped in a
cycle of five seven five –
Writing bad haikus.

Delete this I must
Probably very early
Tomorrow morning.

Phew!

What did you see first –
The Grand Tetons range, or the
Moose in the foreground?

By the way, the last line sounds like a great book title to me: The Moose in the Foreground. Would it be a mystery? Romance? Historical fiction? Memoir?

I’ll probably delete this in the morning after I’ve heard from a number of you about what kind of book that would be.

Tiny purple bloom,
The world is in need of you.
So saith the Lord.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. So saith the Lynn.

A throng of turtles
Talking and telling tall tales,
Tanning on timbers.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. Tut tut!

Seen only in spring,
Only in our fair city,
The dwarf trout lily

‘Tis a rare flower, indeed!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning, pondering why a flower name should include the word “trout.”

A chickadee sings
Bringing light and full joy to
His dark silhouette

I’m sorry to double up today, but about 5 versions of this one kept showing up in my drafts and I thought I’d published it already. I couldn’t find it in my blog, however. Tell me if you’ve already seen and read this one, though. I think we were traveling when I tried to publish it and the upload might have failed. Oh, the mysteries of technology!!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning? I feel I’m in a time warp, so I’m not sure.

I’ve got a busy week and a half ahead with little time for blogging, but I don’t want to abandon the habit altogether. So how about this? I’ll post a photo (or two) (or more) each day along with the Haiku O’ Day. If you hate this idea, let me know and I’ll file your response appropriately.

Angel food Cake
Leftover egg whites
Made a cake fit for angels.
We ate it instead.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning, wishing we hadn’t finished that cake quite so quickly.

Bud. It’s a small word that practically explodes with meaning. Definitions abound!

Bud: A name or nickname. Bud Cort. “Bud,” Rudy’s friend on The Cosby Show.

Bud: Friend. Also, “buddy.”

Bud: Marijuana. “I found him outside, smoking some bud.” I don’t tend to hang out in circles that use the word this way, just so you know. I discovered that usage this morning while doing the kind of intensive research you can expect from this blogger.

Bud: A compact growth on a plant that develops into a leaf, flower, or shoot. Let’s focus (ha ha) on this one.

I took my long-distance zoom lens off the camera this morning and exchanged it for the regular kit lens. For weeks and weeks I’ve been wandering around looking for birds, who tend to fly away if you get too close. But when I fix my eyes on things that are far away, I tend to miss the things that are near, things that I can walk right up to with my camera and get close-ups of, things which neither move, nor fear me. Hence, buds.

Have you ever thought about how amazing buds are? Or, moving farther back, the seeds from which they came? Seeds plus air, sunshine, dirt and water turn into incredibly diverse plants which feed us, shelter us, clothe us, and beautify our world. When you go out for your walk today, look for buds – microcosms of the adult plants and fruits that they will become. Look and be thankful for the great God of the universe who plants seeds and brings forth buds – in the soil and in our souls.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning while contemplating all the things that are budding in my life.