Angel Wings

There's only one beach that we frequent where I can find these shells. This is a false angel wing and the large fragments are those of a great piddock.  Both bear resemblance to the angel wing and my hope is to eventually gather enough to display them.

Their line and form make them one of the more graceful shells--it might be the name that I'm partial to as well. And stands to reason, doesn't it, that if there's an angel wing there also has to be a fallen angel wing.  I'm still skulking around for that one!

"For where your treasure is...

there will your heart be also."

This may not appear as treasure, but when it's time spent beachcombing with the grandchildren, it's treasure.

Nodding Ladies' Tresses

My mother and her friends started a club called the Stitch and Sew, although I never saw a needle and thread at any of their gatherings.  Their club was the result of a long wet spring that necessitated hanging clothes lines inside in order to dry the babies' diapers. There were no dryers, but they did have wringer washer machines. It was a bluesy time for all these young mothers.

The club continued long after that rainy spring. These women loved to talk and laugh.  My sister and I knew we'd be kept awake whenever the Stitch and Sew met at our home evenings. There were times when it became very quiet and those were the times we were curious.  We'd have an excuse for coming downstairs to the kitchen to see just what was occurring.

Peering into the living room, we'd see the women's heads bowed while they listened intently to whatever was being shared in whispers. After the story was complete, they'd all sit back giving an all-knowing nod. A chorus of "mmmmm's" followed.  Not being as mysterious as we imagined it to be, we'd head back to bed.

Whoever named these flowers Nodding Ladies Tresses must have been thinking about that bobbing of heads that is part of the "sisterhood."  And the fact they grow in groups makes their gathering look all the more believable.

Kenaf Plant

It's easy to imagine how fairy tales were fueled, especially with this mystery plant that happened into my garden.  It sounds as if it could be the start of a Jack in the Beanstalk moment, and with the heights this plant can reach perhaps it will be.

I was surprised to read about the kenaf plant and am perplexed how it did come to establish itself in our backyard.  One plant emerged the first year, disappeared the second--a biennial maybe--and this year has returned and  reproduced in great numbers throughout the garden. Based on what I've read, it shouldn't have survived our snowy winters and frosty springs.

Its height is only about 4' right now, but I'm going to keep watching. With a little luck, I might be able to trade some seeds for a cow.

Note: I researched this a little more and realized this isn't the kenaf plant.  In fact it's a Hibiscus trionum: considered, in some circles, to be a noxious weed : ) .  Jack was probably a dreamer though, so I'll keep imagining.