Backyard Nature in April (photos)

 Violets

Periwinkle

Tulips-to-be

Rhubarb

Dandelions, just a few so far

More violets.

Back yard nature: the short lives of dandelions

We had a couple of early dandelions awhile back, but they're all out in full force now.  Here is what puzzles me: of those that blossomed early this week, some are already white fluff and seeds.  How can dandelions be so short-lived?

Back Yard Nature: Two firsts today

In our back yard:

First dandelion.

First violets.

Spring is definitely here.

Photo from Wikipedia.

Frugalities and so on (updated)

1.  Frugal: lentil soup made with last night's extra enchilada sauce.

2.  Fragrant: chocolate chip bars just out of the toaster oven.

3.  Tuneful:  the lute CD I bought at the thrift store on Wednesday.

4.  Yellow: a mass of dandelions outside the basement window.

5.  Purple:  a suede vest and fringed bag for Crissy, made from a grab-bag scrap which seemed to have no other possibilities

6.  Camouflaged: the back side of a robin.  Did you ever notice that?

7.  Hopping:  rabbit in the back yard.

8.  Bright: one red tulip, sprung wide open, in the periwinkle bed out front.  Looks more like a hibiscus, or some kind of overdressed opera singer among the everyday purples and greens.  Rabbits, keep away.

Red admirals and dandelions

On a windy, warm spring day, we're suddenly inundated with both dandelions and butterflies--mostly Red Admirals.  I don't ever remember seeing so many butterflies in our yard at one time.  You stand in the grass and feel like you're in a butterfly conservatory.

Photo found on Wikipedia.

A Month with Charlotte Mason, #30 (On Dandelions)

How are we supposed to end this?

We started with A Leisurely Education. Freedom from the small round of busywork, opportunity to grab hold of something bigger, learning to see ourselves (including our children) more as we are in God's time and in God's universe. Living without futility.

And I'm ending with dandelions.

The Treehouse backyard this week has been covered with yellow dandelions. Much-maligned little flowers that provoke criticism from the neighbours (spraying's in disfavour, but they would like to see us at least hard at work rooting them out). They're not good for much except making more dandelions (okay, I know you can eat them too). The first big batch are either going to seed or were cut off last night with the lawnmower, but they'll be back. [As in, within 24 hours.] Nobody really gets rid of dandelions forever, even if they want to--they're stubborn. And we don't want to get rid of them. In spite of the seasonal allergies kicking in around here, we like our dandelions.

I get the feeling that cultivating a yard full of unfashionable dandelions is somewhat like our approach to education, and maybe our approach to life. This is a time of too many conflicting ideas, at least around lawn care. Lawn spraying is now illegal here (we didn't spray anyway), but people still expect you to have a weed-free, dandelion-free, well-trimmed piece of grass around your house...more or less the same as anyone else's. Educational powers talk about diversity while squeezing out the individual. They dump a lot of fertilizer, if you'll pardon the metaphor, and try to control what grows and what doesn't.

Keep the dandelions growing, if only as a reminder that our natures are stubborn and won't be satisfied with educational sludge. Leave enough room for the intangibles and the poetry--as Cindy said, we can always catch up on grammar later.

A game of romps (better, so far as mere rest goes, than games with laws and competitions), nonsense talk, a fairy tale, or to lie on his back in the sunshine, should rest the child, and of such as these he should have his fill.--Charlotte Mason