It's Berry Time In The City

This past Thursday I went to the greenmarket at Tucker Square, and a representative for GrowNYC, the organization that oversees the greenmarkets throughout the city, took the second photograph atop today's blog entry. I was so caught up in complimenting him on his sign, that I forgot to ask his name so that I could give him a photo credit. Because I go to that market on a regular basis. 

I hope to see him again and then give him a nod (in cyber space) for taking this image for me. In any event, while I was there, I told him (as well as a grower that happened to be standing nearby), how much pleasure I got in providing berries for the American Robins who have been visiting my urban (rooftop) garden — which is something I wrote about this in a recent blog post, "Serving The Frugivores."   

The grower begged to differ about deriving pleasure in seeing birds eat blueberries. She explained that she goes to great lengths to prevent birds from having access to her blueberries.

A bit of serendipity for the NYC birds that visit my rooftop garden: The grower covers her blueberries with nets to keep the birds away, then she brings her blueberries to the city, where I buy them, and use them to feed the bird types that she tries to keep away!

Serving The Frugivores

According to Holiday Insights, the month of June is set aside for a few national observations: National Accordion Awareness Month, National Adopt a Cat Month, and National Fresh Fruit and Vegetables Month. In an effort to pay homage to the latter, I've been offering fresh blueberries to the birds that visit my urban garden in NYC.

And as you can see from the pictures posted above (which were taken in my garden), a lone American Robin and a Northern Mockingbird have been enjoying my hospitality.

One Sheet Book Series Info

MY BOOK SERIES

Words In Our Beak’s goal is to open readers to a simple understanding of the winged world and their environment. Set in a rooftop urban garden in New York City, my story is told in the voice of Cam, a female cardinal, who visits it. Words In Our Beak is directed to children and adults who are curious about birds, and want to learn about them from a unique perspective. The book includes hundreds of images of flora and fauna, links to movies, as well as to informative narratives that have been created by the author.

SEE PRESS RELEASE

Volume One: ISBN: 9780996378529
Book Seller Info: http://bit.ly/2AFZDCz
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2zxVujM
Barnes & Noble On-Line: http://bit.ly/2AAnB26
book culture On Columbus (a bookstore on the UWS in NYC): http://bit.ly/2FsC1Uf

SEE PRESS RELEASE

Volume Two: ISBN: 9780996378536
Book Seller Info: http://bit.ly/2q75g8e
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2DY0mz0
Barnes & Noble On-Line: http://bit.ly/2G65m6H

SEE PRESS RELEASE

Volume Three: ISBN: 978099637853

Book Seller Info: http://bit.ly/2IzH2iu

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2IYkmpA
Barnes & Noble On-Line: http://bit.ly/2vedQot

EACH OF THESE BOOKS CAN BE ORDERED FROM ANY PLACE SELLING BOOKS BY GIVING THEM THE TITLE, OR ISBN, OR MY NAME, PATRICIA YOUNGQUIST.

ADDENDUM SEPTEMBER AND OCTOBER 2021:

When the third volume of the hard-cover version of Words In Our Beak was released, I withdrew from promoting my former versions of Words In Our Beak. 

The very first one is an iBook and went into Apple's book store in 2015.

This was followed by an ePub version...

... that is available on Amazon and was also published in 2015.

Subsequently, Words In Our Beak's digital versions were published as a soft-cover book (with slight variations) by MagCloud in 2017.

Its press release can be read by clicking here.  

Now with the release of BIRD TALES (which is in Apple's Bookstore and On Amazon)...

... I've been advised to make mention of my early versions of volume one of Words In Our Beak, they do vary ever so slightly in content from the hard-cover version of volume one.

As of this addendum, I do not intend to create digital or soft-cover versions of Words In Our Beak Volume Two or Words In Our Beak Volume Three.

NOVEMBER 2021 ADDENDUM 

My new book, IT'S THE LITTLE THINGS is now available in Apple's Bookstore.

IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS is a book with a light hearted tone and stunning photography, taking nature lovers of all ages on a delightful journey. Youngquist’s exquisite photos capture the detail and awesome wonder of various birds; assorted insects; a reptile; a fish; and an array of flowers as well as foliage; all found within New York. Youngquist’s playful writing gives insights regarding nuances found in these aspects of Mother Nature. Read IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS and add a bit of joy to your day.

My "Six Degrees of Separation" led to sad news...

Once upon a time, I wrote little stories (unpaid) for hometalk (and also for this blog) about whimsical holiday-themed figurines. These were designed by an array of artisans including Patience Brewster, Lori Mitchell, Bethany Lowe and Byer's Choice. Although I no longer do this (except on rare occasion) I still get emails about new and old figurines as well as information re those who create them.

The other day I received a notification that the MacKenzie-Childs company is now producing Halloween themed figurines and home decor. Pictures of their works can be seen in the photo-ops atop this entry. I don't (nor can I afford) anything created by MacKenzie-Childs but their name is familiar with me for other reasons.

"We have gotta say good-bye for the winter."

Mama Reindeer, seen in the "middle" of the image posted above, is someone whom you may recognize, dear reader, as she came with her twins (standing to her right in the aforementioned image), to spend the 2011-2012 Christmas season in my urban (NYC) garden, and as of today's posting, January 2nd 2012, they are still here. 

Not everyone appreciates tulips (unlike me). Tuesday's Truths WK 120

The figurine (picture above) who was intent on planting some bulbs (within my indoor succulent garden) and I were comparing notes re our experiences with flowers that are produced by them including; Muscari, crocuses and tulips. Over the years (more than ten) of maintaining my rooftop garden with the help of JV, bulbs for many varieties of the aforementioned flowers have been planted in my place.

"IT'S THE LITTLE THINGS" is now available!

My new book, IT'S THE LITTLE THINGS is now available in Apple's Bookstore. 

I first made an annoucement about it on October 1, 2021, then published a follow up re this endeavor on October 30 2021, and, as of yesterday, the book is live!

This book with a light hearted tone and stunning photography, takes nature lovers of all ages on a delightful journey and includes photos which capture the detail and awesome wonder of various birds; assorted insects; a reptile; a fish; and an array of flowers as well as foliage; all found within New York. 

The narrative provides insights regarding nuances found in these aspects of Mother Nature. Read IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS and add a bit of joy to your day.

Here's Some More of Thursday's Testimony (Not Comey's; It's Still The Little Things)

Earlier today, I published a post here on Blogger that's titled Wednesday's Wisdom + Thursday's Testimony (It's The Little Things). 

My reasoning for giving it this title is that I started writing the aforementioned post on Wednesday, which is the day I do my Wednesday's Wisdom series, but, I didn't publish it until today. Now, before the day's out, I'd like to share with you another testimony, which has nothing to do with the testimony James Comey gave today.

The additional testimony that I'm offering here (as part of my Thursday's Testimony series) is for the birds, and, the bird type which I'm dedicating this entry to is known as a Canadian Goose, seen in the image atop this entry.

I took the photograph last night when I was in Central Park, having a picnic with a few acquaintances. What a joy it was to see the adult Canadian Geese spending quality time with their goslings.

Neither of the goslings' parents were on their cell phone talking or texting; rather, their entire focus was on their young ones, as they made their way down a path that is near to the lake in Central Park.

Both parents just kept their eye on the birdie, as evidenced in the next set of photos.

They seemed like such a happy family out for a late spring evening stroll! And the parents took such pride in showing their off-spring out to the public as they strutted down the path!

It's Ditch New Years Resolutions Day + MORE!

According to a web- page on Holiday Insights (HI) "If there's a day to celebrate New Years and to make resolutions for the upcoming year, then there should be a day to ditch those resolutions. That's the reason for today [January 17th]."

HI goes on to proclaim "If you haven't broken or given up all of those New Year's resolutions, you're doing better than most of us. Maybe, you're well along the way to accomplishing them. Maybe, a few are already checked off on your list. Good for you! For many of us, New Years resolutions are hanging heavily over our heads. They have become a burden, and perhaps were not such a good idea after all. Then...... of course, there's the New Years resolutions that have already been broken. If you haven't accomplished, broken, or given up your New Year's resolutions, today is your chance to get out from under them."

So in honor of this holiday, I've posted a comic strip of Dilbert as well as a cartoon by Bill Whitehead atop this entry as they "address" the making of New Years resolutions.

I guess ditching New Years resolutions won't be on my to-do list today because I didn't make any, which has been my standard for a number of years now. I confessed this in a 2011 blog post, where I stated, "It's not that I don't have resolutions to make: I have bills to pay, a temper to monitor, faith that feels watered down and it needs building up, and the habit of swearing that needs to be stopped immediately.

Here's Tuesday's Truths WK 56: Childrens' Views on Summer Vacation

It's the fifty-fourth week of my Tuesday's Truths series! It is also the day after Labor Day, which may be the first day back to school for a number of  children. Readers of this blog will surely have memories of their own school days, and especially that first day back to school after a summer vacation.

I came across this PEANUTS strip in my newsfeed this past Friday this past Friday. It caused me to think of my elementary school days, when the first day of school meant having to write about one's summer vacation.

H.F. Clematis Flower Teams Up With 'Mindia'

As one of the many, many purple flowers (seen here — without my other H.F. comrades — in the left portion of the image above this blog entry, an image you may recognize from Youngquist's post on nybg — New York Botanical Gardens' tumblr) that belong to the H.F. Young Clematis Family, a vine which grows in Youngquist's (your blogger) urban (NYC) garden, I am thrilled to be here today to assist in authoring this post on TLLG.

"My September Baccalaureate": Journey Towards Elegant Lighting

Last week, at this very time, I was preparing for a hurricane who has ben named Hurricane Irene, which I discussed in this past Saturday's post, and in the conclusion of that entry, I reported that, in regards to Irene, I'd return to blogging with "hopefully little damage to report."

Thankfully, that was the case, as I've already indicated earlier this week. I am very grateful to God — though I don't express it nearly as much as I should. In fact, since I sleep on a foam pad — which is directly atop of my floor, I often don't kneel when I say prayers before going to sleep, although I did (as is the standard) kneel at mass yesterday, with thanksgiving that, in terms of Irene, I was unscathed; especially given the damage which Hurricane Irene did cause for many people, including those who live  on or near the Jersey Shore, a place, where I took the photograph (posted above) in late July, of a shore town's resident's garden fence with the affirmation, God Answers Knee-Mail. 

Since the place where I took this photograph is very near the ocean, I hope the folks who own the property as well as their surrounding neighbors did not sustain too much damage, but, whatever the case turned out to be, I am fairly certain they relied on their knee-mail to God to see them through the situation.

And speaking of God; are you, dear reader, familiar with the adage, If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans" ?

Well, what has happened, dear reader, is that I've recently discovered this very same  thing that happens with a muse. If you want to amuse your muse, tell him/her what you intend to write about. 

For as you may recall, dear reader, last Saturday I confessed that I had planed to write about my "journey towards elegant garden lighting", but my preparation for Irene took precedence. I did promise to return to my garden lighting epiphany today, but I admit that (because I have now been writing this entry in my head for over a week) my insights do not seem as poignant as they did last week, and I am tempted to renege on my promise; not out of an unwillingness to fulfill a task — but out of a bit of pride — that I may not sound as prolific in cyberspace as I do in my head, when it comes to the insights which I thought the new lighting system in my urban garden had taught me.

Mushroom Madness

This past Sunday, August 20th 2011, as I prepared my blog entry for this Tuesday's publication, rain — severe rain — with thunderstorms was predicted. That weather report caused me to think back to the prior Sunday's (August 14th) torrents of rain.

While Texas remained under a severe drought, on Sunday, August 14th of 2011, the amount of rainfall in New York City set a record. 

According to radio reports, newspapers, and countless Internet materials, including one found at this link, "New York's Kennedy Airport received 7.8" of rain, its soggiest day since records began in 1948. Its single-day rainfall output was about twice its average monthly total."  As a result of this immense rainfall, there were "scattered power outages and transit disruptions. Cars got caught in flash floods, and the Long Island Railroad reported localized flooding and trees on the tracks, delaying several dozen trains....in the subways, water flooded into the tunnels, knocking out seven lines of power . . . "

Besides the rhetoric, newspapers were, if you will excuse the pun, flooded with images of this occurrence, but the only photograph which I took of my terrace garden on that rain-filled day is one of a tiny watering can (obviously not one that I use to water my garden) that rests on the the second of three bamboo shelves which are attached to my terrace railing by copper-wire to provide me with an "urban hedge." 

The EXIF info on this photograph tells me it was taken at 16:57:13; which, from my military time conversion, means I took it a little after 4:57 P.M. — most likely the only small window of time on that Sunday in which rainfall was not occurring, as I am not camera savvy enough to shoot pictures in the rain.)

The first  bamboo shelf of of these "urban hedge" can be seen in the photograph below.

This photograph was not taken during the rainstorm, but has been included in this blog entry to give you an idea of what I mean by my "urban hedge" of bamboo shelving.

These shelves serve as one of my "urban hedges" — giving me privacy from voyeur neighbors as discussed in a few previous posts, including ones which you may refer to by clicking here and here. These particular bamboo shelves are located at the extreme southwest corner of my garden, which means they are to the immediate left of the door that leads from my apartment to my terrace garden, and therefore I did not have to venture very far into my garden to take either of the photographs of my bamboo shelving. An orange arrow has been added to the image directly above, to show you, dear reader, just how close the neighbor's window is to my urban garden.

However, the point of today's blog entry is not solely dedicated to "urban hedges" or to sensationalizing August 14th's rainfall, rather it is to shed light on the prevailing belief that the things which urban gardeners — or at least ones with container gardens — grow truly thrive as a result of such downpours. At times of heavy rainfall, many folks — as most of them know that I hand-water over sixty things that grow in my terrace garden — always say to me, "well at least you don't have to water . . . "

And with that assumption, I want to clarify something that I may have alluded to in a blog entry, in which I discussed hand-watering my terrace garden. First of all, rain does not always fall into the many containers that "house" the herbs, plants, flowers, vines, shrubs, and trees which I have in my terrace garden, so at times, even in heavy rainfall, I still have to water it. 

Secondly, if the rainfall is heavy enough to do damage to subway systems, think what it can do to the root systems of things living in garden containers. A number of years ago it rained every day in the month of June, and a few of my shrubs that I had successfully wintered over, and that had thrived beautifully for part of that spring season, succumbed to mold and mildew brought on by their roots being unable to dry out. Since mold and mildew can spread, I had to get rid of the afflicted shrubs, and replace them with other things.

Hence, the type of rain New York City experienced on Sunday, August 14th, because it was followed by heavy rain on Monday the 15th, Wednesday the 17th, Thursday the 18th, had the potential of endangering some of the things which I grow in my terrace garden; but as you can see by the photograph posted below (which was taken by Juan V on Thursday the 18th), fortunately that was not the case.

The things that grow in my terrace garden – so far — do not seem to be in danger of mold or mildew, which is a good sign, especially since it has continued to rain after Juan V took the photograph.

Unfortunately, another problem has come up in my urban terrace garden as a result of so much rainfall: Since the days following the time that Juan V took the aerial photograph of my urban garden, it has rained heavily again, and that rain, or rather my herbs, vines, flowers, plants, shrubs and tree's inability to dry out from that rain, has caused unsightly (in my humble opinion) mushrooms to make their home in the container which houses my Continus Coggygria (Smoke Bush) as seen in the photographs posted below.

I use the term "humble opinion" in conjunction with my observation that mushroom are "unsightly" because when I saw them on Sunday morning, August 21st, their sudden appearance nearly gagged me; and it sent me straight to Google for answers, where I came upon a mushroom lover's web-site by someone named Michael Kuo which you may refer to by clicking here.

Before I go any further, I will confess that this is not the first time I saw a mushroom in my urban garden, I did see a "lone" mushroom "hidden" beneath the delicate foliage of my Thom-Thumb shrub, but I dug it out immediately —  out of a reflex reaction — rather than photographing it. A few days later, I spotted a mushroom growing in my Creeping Phlox, and this time, I took a photograph, (posted below), and then I pulled the mushroom out!

Unlike Mr. Kuo, I do not appreciate their presence, and upon reading what he has to say about getting rid of them, I am quite discouraged. Here is what Kuo has to say about removal of mushrooms:"Mushrooms are roughly comparable to apples on apple trees; they are the fruiting body the organism creates when it wants to reproduce. The apple tree's "plan" (I know; I'm giving human thoughts to trees and mushrooms, but it's the easiest way to talk about this) is to put its seeds in a nice, plump morsel that will fall to the ground and attract a hungry animal who will then, um, pass the seeds to new territory for germination and a new apple tree."

Mr. Kuo continues, "Mushrooms have similar plans. Their seeds (microscopic things called spores) cover parts of the mushrooms; one of the best ways to understand mushrooms is to think of them as 'spore factories'. The entire structure is an excuse to get spores out into the world . . . the 'real' organism – the part that corresponds to the apple tree, rather than the apple — is called a mycelium (pronounced so it rhymes with 'my helium'), and is found in the mushroom's substrate: the ground, leaves, a log, woodchips, and so on. It is a mesh of tiny threadlike cells that plow through the substrate, consuming nutrients . . . "

"Now it should be obvious why you can't get rid of your mushrooms; you would have to get rid of the mycelium rather than the mushrooms. If you have been picking or stomping on your mushrooms to make them disappear, you might as well have picked every apple in an orchard , trying to make the trees go away."

"HUH?," says yours truly to the blinking monitor.

"You would need to remove all the soil and natural debris in your yard or garden, and replace it with something inorganic like concrete or plastic — in which case you would 'probably' be mushroom free. I say 'probably' because Pisolithus tinctorius, Scleroderma, and other mushrooms might still erupt through your concrete."

And I thought bamboo shelving would shield me from unsightly things! The blinking monitor hears me wince!

"What I haven't mentioned yet is your mushroom is an integral part of your yard or garden's ecosystem. Its mycelium is probably doing one of two things, either which is crucial to the health of your yard."

But, I have a container garden!

"  . . . mushrooms are involved in a symbiotic relationship with plants and trees. The plant's rootlets are surrounded and protected by the mushroom's mycelium which help the plant absorb water and nutrients . . . "

Not convinced that their value is worth the eye-sore!

I will concede that I am willing to consider Mr. Kuo's view, because, after all, anyone who presents their argument by "giving human thoughts to trees and mushrooms" has a way of winning my heart, for as you know, if you follow this blog, there have been a number of occasions when one of my plants, flowers, shrubs or trees have expressed themselves by authoring blog entries. My Paeonia Suffruiticosa's (Tree Peony) self-expression is here, my Tulips "two-cents" can be found here and here; my Physocarpus opulifolius (Coppertina) views are here, my Roses weighed in here; while my Helichrysum bracteatum (Strawflowers), took the helm here.

Moreover, my Actinida kolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vines) were cast — although my Actinida kolomikta did all the talking — as narrators of my first garden movie, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame . . .  almost; which is now on Vimeo, and is accessible at this link.

And, not to be on done, my Hens and Chicks insisted on giving a thumbs up to a colleague of mine (which you can see at this link), while my Echinacea and Tropaelum majus (Nasturtium) insisted their placement in my Flickr Galleries be announced by them. They made their announcements in these respective links (here and here).

I am still not too pleased to have unsightly mushrooms invading my Continus Coggygria (Smokey Bush) and my Creeping Phlox, but if it doesn't bother them, I'll try to take the same attitude and let things take their course. Besides, once upon a time, I thought mushrooms were cute, well, at least ceramic ones, such as the variety yours truly is sitting on in the photograph posted below. The picture was taken on my fifth birthday, at Santa's Village, a place that was filled with amusement, and mushrooms (the purple double-sided  arrow on the photograph is pointing to two of the many) and now, as I celebrate my (ahem) birthday tomorrow, I will make a wish to be childlike and not childish about mushrooms.

New Arrivals: The Coccinellidae novemnotatas aka THE LADYBUGS

Last week, at this very time, I was preparing for a hurricane who has ben named Hurricane Irene, which I discussed in this past Saturday's post, and in the conclusion of that entry, I reported that, in regards to Irene, I'd return to blogging with "hopefully little damage to report."

Thankfully, that was the case, as I've already indicated earlier this week. I am very grateful to God — though I don't express it nearly as much as I should. In fact, since I sleep on a foam pad — which is directly atop of my floor, I often don't kneel when I say prayers before going to sleep, although I did (as is the standard) kneel at mass yesterday, with thanksgiving that, in terms of Irene, I was unscathed; especially given the damage which Hurricane Irene did cause for many people, including those who live  on or near the Jersey Shore, a place, where I took the photograph (posted above) in late July, of a shore town's resident's garden fence with the affirmation, God Answers Knee-Mail. 

Since the place where I took this photograph is very near the ocean, I hope the folks who own the property as well as their surrounding neighbors did not sustain too much damage, but, whatever the case turned out to be, I am fairly certain they relied on their knee-mail to God to see them through the situation.

And speaking of God; are you, dear reader, familiar with the adage, If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans" ?

Well, what has happened, dear reader, is that I've recently discovered this very same  thing that happens with a muse. If you want to amuse your muse, tell him/her what you intend to write about. 

For as you may recall, dear reader, last Saturday I confessed that I had planed to write about my "journey towards elegant garden lighting", but my preparation for Irene took precedence. I did promise to return to my garden lighting epiphany today, but I admit that (because I have now been writing this entry in my head for over a week) my insights do not seem as poignant as they did last week, and I am tempted to renege on my promise; not out of an unwillingness to fulfill a task — but out of a bit of pride — that I may not sound as prolific in cyberspace as I do in my head, when it comes to the insights which I thought the new lighting system in my urban garden had taught me.

April 2019 is here...

... and in NYC it arrived with temperatures in the low thirties, prompting folks on the street to make reference to the weather being an April Fool's Day prank.

April is a month that T.S. Eliot proclaimed was the cruelest, that is part of a quotation (posted above) from The Wasteland, which is one I've referenced in prior entries here on Blogger; but today I came upon an interpretation of these words that really spoke to me and I hope they do the same for you, dear reader.

In an article for Node in the Global Mind, Chris Day responds to the question, What did T.S. Eliot mean when he said that April is the cruelest month (in his poem, The Waste Land)? Day states the following:

"Let's look at the first seven lines of the first stanza:

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.

In the northern hemisphere, April is clasically associated with spring. This is classic Eliot topsy-turviness. April is cruel? How can April be cruel? It's spring; with flowers and mild weather and sex and love in the air. 

He's giving us an insight into a mind that doesn't revel in these things as might be expected. 'breeding/Lilacs out of the dead land' is a very heavy, depressed way to describe the blooming of flowers. He sees the same things as everyone else, but there is no joy there. 'mixing/Memory and desire, stirring/Dull roots with spring rain;' a sense of loss and longing, of being rooted in the past, and spring re-awakening memories of things that have passed. 

By comparison; 'Winter kept us warm' 'forgetful snow;' these things suggest a state of comfortable emotional hibernation.

An old literature teacher once put it thus; when your arm is numb, you don't feel it. But when the blood flows again, and the pins and needles come, suddenly you know about it. It's not (emotional) numbness that hurts; it's the return of feeling.

Anyone who has dealt with long-term depression can probably feel the connection to what Eliot is describing here, and it does a fantastic job of leading in to the rest of the poem, which deals excrutiatingly with depression and memory. 

In summary; April is the cruelest month because the life and color of spring throws one's depression into stark relief and forces painful memories to surface."

Day's interpretation of the first seven lines of Eliot's stanza rings true for me on a very personal level they remind me of  a poem by Emily Dickinson, which is about her first encounter with a robin in any given new year.

THE SILENT TREATMENT: American Robins ARE Hoppin' & A Bobbin' BUT...

AMERICAN ROBIN

AMERICAN ROBIN

AMERICAN ROBIN

AMERICAN ROBIN

AMERICAN ROBIN

AMERICAN ROBIN

The photographs atop this blog entry are of an American Robin that I came upon when I was walking in Central Park. I've seen a number of members of this bird type during my walks in Central Park, which is a fact I mentioned here on Blogger. I've also seen them when I've cycled (on a tandem) to The Little Red Lighthouse, but on those occasions it is usually too dark to take a decent photograph of this (or any) bird type.

When I first started noticing the presence of robins in both Central Park and near The Little Red Lighthouse, I nearly had a long term case of ohrwurms caused by my recalling the song "Rocking Robin."

Ohrwurms, as you may know, is the term given to the "condition" of having a song stuck in your head and seeing robins on a daily basis as I walked through Central Park, certainly prompted me to sing,"He rocks in the tree tops all day long .... Hoppin' and a-boppin' and singing his song. All the little birdies on Jaybird street, love to hear the robin go tweet, tweet, tweet... Rockin' robin, rock, rock, Rockin' robin, rock rock...." 

But in reality the robins I saw in Central Park or near The Little Red Lighthouse were not "rockin' in the treetops," but they were "hoppin' and a-boppin" across the ground. And I never heard any of those robin go "tweet, tweet, tweet!" They have all been silent.

Let the Spring Season Begin

This past Wednesday, March 20th 2013), was the day of the Vernal Equinox and the first day of spring. A music loving visitor (who came to my indoor succulent garden) helped ring in the season by repurposing a leaf and turning it into an instrument! This can be seen in the image posted above today's blog entry (variations of this image were featured in postings on TLLG's Facebook Page and tumblr blog).

Anyone who follows TLLG knows that throughout the year, an array of eclectic visitors frequent my indoor succulent garden, providing some entertainment and ambience which helps my succulents thrive. "Stories" about this can be found in a number of posts here on Blogger as well as on tumblr. 

Moreover, I have guest blogged about this topic in the past. Additionally, there are images of most of the "folks" and "creatures" who visit my indoor garden on one of my Pinterest Boards.

In terms of Wednesday's arrival of spring in my urban (NYC) terrace (roof extension) garden, Juan V and I "celebrated" the onset of the season by working in my garden. You may recall from a number of posts here on Blogger that he comes to work in my garden approximately every ten days during "open season." 

And even though last Wednesday was only the first day of spring, my garden was already coming back from a dreary winter, as yesterday was also the second "round" of my working with Juan V for the 2013 "gardening season." Our first day of working together after "the winter break" had been on Saturday March 9th 2013. Every year when we "re-open" my garden, the first task is to de-winterize, which involves quite a few hours of work as my winterizing methods are quite extensive.