Locust borer on Goldenrod
The garden is a hive of activity this time of the year. I took loads of disappointing shots, but it’s nice outside. (Locust borer; Goldenrod)
I have put the translation of The Whistle Thorn Tree (Fluit, Doringboom; Afrikaans) up for free on iTunes.
I’m off to sample the Great Canadian Trail and will be away for a while.
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I wonder what nibbled on it? Not a holly blue’s caterpillar, probably.
Stroppy Shelf Life
The dead birch trees dream of Ötzi the Iceman
and of their pale youth
when a coat of green loyal ivy
shaded them from bulbous fungi
– not a shield from whipworm, a human problem after all –
One silver birch still stands,
stretched tall to the blue sky,
snug in the coiled embrace of fruiting ivy,
alive with bumble-bees
– or are they the selfsame carpenters that drilled their brethren’s polka dots? –
The winter cat awaits with polished claws
and snowy cloak, hidden in its cloudy paws.
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|Neither viscous nor vicious
fernpodes like haiku
about sweet dropsydilloes;
not visc(u)ous screams
This looks like a fun experiment:
The garden is awakening slowly.
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Things are happening out there!
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