Mid March

I enjoy taking photos which document the progress of each season where ever we have lived.

The sweet gums and maples were the first to show signs of spring earlier this month.

I noticed today that many of these scarlet buds have now drifted to the ground beneath the trees, looking like tiny scattered red berries.

This is the area where last year our camper trailers were parked while the house was under construction.

Crinkly lichen on a fallen log.

The dense tangle of the ravine.

The evening before the full moon. Once again clouds obscured the beauty of the full moon and for several nights of the waning gibbous moon--this has happened for 4 months running.

The property that Jim bought to renovate has a mature 'tulip' magnolia in the dooryard.

I brought home some branches still in tight bud to force inside.

The blossoms opened quickly in the warmth of the house.

Nearly every day I have walked to the site of the former house here [burned prior to our purchase of the property] to note the progress of bloom on the 'Jane' magnolia.

In spite of cloudy weather buds have been opening. I am intrigued as the fuzzy calyx slowly unfolds and the color of the flowers appears.

The main trunk of the tree was badly damaged by the fire; some of the exposed wood is soft and I expect the life of the tree is challenged. There are shoots forming near the base which I hope will survive even when the damaged parts of the tree may need to be cut out.

I have been carefully tying up the delicate stems of the clematis.

I've not yet moved the lemon verbena outside. The tub is heavy and having lugged it twice to the greenhouse and back I've decided it can remain in the house until I'm sure warmer weather is here to stay.

  The magnolia today--19 March.

A lovely color on an overcast afternoon.

Forsythia at the bend in the lane.

I found a few shy violets today.

Life has not [yet?] changed greatly for us with the restrictions and concerns posed by Covid-19.

As retirees we don't have strict schedules, places that we are expected to be.

As life-long country dwellers we have always kept a deep pantry--baking supplies, home-canned goods, grains/cereals, a well-stocked freezer. We have the makings of many a nutritious meal.

Fresh produce for salads is more of a concern during the winter months as we live too far from town to shop for those items more than once weekly.

Thus far we are living with very little difference than usual. Our church had services last week and the tentative plan is to continue unless there is a more localized threat.  There is always the option of not attending.

I am never bored.  There are books to read, sewing, baking, the daily round of keeping house.

The internet offers endless options for reading or studying whatever may be of interest.

It has thus far been a rainy month, but whenever possible I am outside, pruning roses, looking to see what perennials are breaking dormancy, prodding at the copious weeds which remained green through the winter.

We are entertained by the cats--for whom an extra supply of kibble and litter is on hand.

I completed two genealogy projects last month and realized that too much screen time was straining my vision, so have been sewing or reading 'real' books as an alternative.

The current work in progress is a quilt with Ohio Star blocks.

I've made 42 and now started on the alternate setting blocks.

My seed order arrived this week and I've spent time in the greenhouse happily 'pottering'--with the help of Willis.

Like everyone else we have concerns for those of our friends and relatives who are elderly or have compromised health; we think of the impact for those still in the work force, for the threat posed to the small local businesses here and elsewhere.

We acknowledge the many uncertainties, the unknowns--but we continue to take each day as it comes, being sensible, realistic, without borrowing trouble.

It is all we can do.