Strolling the neighborhood

This week, it is April in March. Not that I object. The world is transformed with the first poppy or the first violets of spring.

Not to mention the daffodils here and there throughout the neighborhood. Javelina-proof, too. In case you weren't aware, bulbs of this classic early bloomer are highly cyanic, that is to say, very poisonous. To man as well as to the pigs. They don't touch the stuff.

I found this pretty painted gourd in shrubbery on Coronado and took advantage of the last chance to photograph sycamore seed balls, minus foliage (below) in front of Lincoln School.

Stopped to admire the stacked stonework above -- no mortar; wonder how long these courses will hold up. The wall below has been in place many, many years, and so it's no surprise that the hydraulic forces are pushing the brick walls awry.

I finally got a satisfactory shot of a rear dormer on the Victorian at Park and Gurley -- and wondered when the construction declared by the sign below would begin in earnest. No evidence of it the past couple of weeks. And so a house which has been gutted for remodelling sits there, open to the world.

I've been eyeing this insulator each time I passed by; on yesterday's stroll, I committed myself. It's almost as photogenic as the wooden crossbar. As for the smudges below, they represent an interesting development. This is the First Time Ever, in my experience, that civic graffiti have been painted over, just like outlaw graffiti. Interesting.

Flowers that bloom before Spring...

...tra la! I guess I should thank the javelina -- they allowed my last little clutch of crocus to bloom before they unearthed and chowed down on the bulbs. Didn't even bother to fill in the hole in the ground they left behind.

However, it's the stupid apricot trees that really make me wonder about the survival of the fittest. Now I will grant that my apricot trees are doing just fine. But this business of bursting into bloom long before the last frost does make one wonder. They've had flowers now for over a week and I doubt that there are enough insects aloft to start any little apricots on their way. The one tree that has yet to produce flowers is the tree that, last year, produced 12 little fruit with the flavor of cardboard.

Link Time Again: Have I ever mentioned that I'm a nut about volcanoes? Well, now you know it; what's more, I've come across a splendid everything-you-wanted-to-know-about-volcanoes site, which gave me my fascinating fact of the day -- the center of France is sitting on a volcanic hot spot. Even further away than France, Suzie of Arabia explains that horseback riding is one of the few activities allowed women outside of the home and shopping. Lucy recently visited her friends across the English channel and was treated to an after-hours (actually, before-hours) tour of London's Royal Opera House, including the queen's own private loo. Closer to home, a recommended method to deskunk your dog after an unfortunate encounter. LindaG takes us back to the days when the Santa Fe trains stopped in Prescott. And, finally, for a local take on organic gardening, click over to The Mad Bioneer.

A Late Afternoon Neighborhood Walk

And the first stop is right beside my house, where the biggest of several grown-from-seed apricot trees is covered in blossoms. Unfortunately, I might as well give up all thought of fruit and welcome these early blooming trees as strictly ornamentals. Prescott has a bad habit of late, killing frosts.

Next, a quick stop at my potted garden before venturing forth. Daffodils are one of the few bulb plants guaranteed to survive hungry javelinas; the critters won't touch the poisonous tubers. After two or three frustrating years with wild tulips and hyacinths, I decided to put all my spring bulb money into daffodils!

But time to get on my way. Over at the United Methodist Church, there's spring-type construction activity at the pretty little meditation garden which I usually view from one level up.

Here's one sight in the neighborhood that I'm sure most people miss completely -- a little summer house up among the granites. It sits behind a house that, from the front, looks like any small Prescott cottage on a standard long and narrow city lot.

This afternoon I also discovered that not only do our sycamores very occasionally produce their pompoms in sets of two -- but here in threesies and foursies. This particular tree is quite young, which might explain such productivity.

I found one other fruit (or ornamental) in bloom. And it was abuzz with bees. Very good news. A couple of years ago, as I recall, our bees died from a virus. That was the year that even our scruffy little apple trees were barren.

A difficult picture to get: small tree trunks sawed into short lengths to create an attractive ground cover.

Ending my walk on a sad note: the butterfly is broken! But it might get repaired; the wing is down below sitting in a decorative cane chair.

Season's First Crocus

Those are mighty small crocuses, compared to a US two-bit piece. However, the bulbs have been in the ground here for maybe 10-15 years. And it isn't what one would call nourishing soil; no, that is decayed granite, maybe 6-8 inches thick atop a granite base. At least the javelina haven't found that particular set of bulbs. Yet.

At first I thought that the flowers pictured at the top of the page were my first of the season -- but this little clump preceded them by a few days.

But it's the season when all the bulbs that have survived begin to push green leaves up to catch the sun. Here, daffodils.

The iris, too, is making an appearance.

My overgrown miniature yellow rose is greening up.

And something that emerges from a bulb is coming up next to my hardy, evergreen barbatus penstemon; I think it may be one of the pretty little wild tulips. All I can say is WHEE! Spring again. That's the good news.

Now the not-so-good. It's time to start thinking fence. Because, no matter how much I enjoy wildlife, the situation changes when a troupe of javelina declares a section of the yard to be its very own outhouse. The spot is beginning to stink! Right next to my neighbor's yard, of course. I have a problem, folks!

Spring Is a'Comin' In

I couldn't resist shuffling through this heap of leaves -- a leftover from autumn -- yesterday. Won't get many more chances. A remnant from last year.

As is this cool display of sycamore pompoms.

And these ornamental cherries (or berries of some sort.)

But the jasmine are blossoming! An absolutely, sure sign that spring will be with us soon. And I suspect that the early-blooming manzanitas, along the White Spar winding down into Wilhoit, are proving once again that they are members of the heather family!

This evergreen shrub is putting out new leaves.

And I noticed that the sap must now be running up the sycamores over on Park Avenue, if this stain running down the bark is any indication.

From wounds such as this, not fully healed after all these years.

If you look carefully at the sycamore twigs above, you'll see leaf buds.

Ditto for these apple twigs.

Here's an ornamental tree with blossoms almost ready to burst.

The Siberian elm leaf buds are not suddenly new -- but they are rapidly filling out...

...as this close-up demonstrates. Decisivly, I'd say.

Of course, it's only Feburary, but that's how it is up in the mountains at mid-elevations. We might dry out completely. We might have a foot of snow. In May. You never know. Just don't count on getting apricots.

Hurrah note: I should get my own comfy, easy to use computer back tomorrow.