Memorial Colors on Walnut Hill

These are the markings and colors of rural towns in America on Memorial day. The media would like you to think that it is the official start to summer. That’s just sales. Here in rural Buckland Mass, the crops and sunrise and sunset changes, tell you what season it is.

Bless the farmers that spread that essence in the air. It’s home to many.


Buckland, a Much Overlooked Realm

There is a Mystic About!

The Hills of West County in particular, Buckland, have a different sense. The weather is visible here. You can see a front coming in and watch clearly the prevailing winds across the hills.

The air actually has a scent of moisture when rain comes. Most of the Hills here are open to the East/Southeast.

Stagger Your Color

One of My Favorites

Bleeding HeartsThe greatest downfall of our world is that people have stopped looking at Creation. It is minuscule and towering. But, you have to stop and see it. Once you witness the Natural World-(of which we are a vital part)-you see perfection. Taking time to see and learn, to know your gardens timing, is to be the Gardner.

It comes in various waves, the gardens. Be it perennial, annual, vegetable: or even an orchard.


Overview and Description of Bleeding Heart Plants

It’s easy to see where the old-fashioned Bleeding Heart (Dicentra spectabilis) got its name. The pillow-like flower is heart shaped with a single dangling pendulous drop.

Bleeding Hearts are shade loving woodland plants that bloom in the cool of spring. Although they stay in bloom for several weeks, the plants often become ephemeral, disappearing for the rest of the summer, if planted in too much sun or heat.



Come What May, it’s May.

Expectations of a New Englander.



Here in New England, we kind of don’t trust Winter to have pretty much gone until May. Yet in my day I have seen heavy snowfall in May. Right now things are booming in nature in the North Woods right now. Green ground cover.

The Fly Catchers have something to eat. The Kingfisher has been diving at the farm pond down back. Mergansers on the Deerfield. And of course the Peepers. Who doesn’t love the Peepers at night.

I had a friend from NYC stay here several years back and she said: how do you sleep here with so much noise. It’s a song to me. Like the Chickadee and the Cardinal.

It’s May. It always returns.

Spring Rain Brings Color

The Return of the Rose Breasted Grosbeak

Pictured here is the male Rose Breasted Grosbeak. He just arrived today amidst heavy rains.

Adult males are black-and-white birds with a brilliant red chevron extending from the black throat down the middle of the breast.

Rose-breasted Grosbeaks breed in eastern forests; you can find them among both deciduous trees and conifers. They are most common in regenerating woodlands and often concentrate along forest edges and in parks. During migration, Rose-breasted Grosbeaks frequent fruiting trees to help fuel their flights to Central and South America

New England Sauntering


Today is in the mid to upper 50’s. A great day to to get reacquainted with life.

Part of life’s greatest pleasures, experiences, and learning space, is the lost art of sauntering. Doing a short “walkabout.” Seeing and not just looking.

We are all artists in how we can see what is there. Right there. You don’t have to have “talent’ to have seeing ability and appreciate our environment.

Years ago I brought some friends to this spot in the forest amid a hemlock grove. There was a natural formation in the grove center as if a council fire might be lit. Every dead log and all of the ground was covered in green moss. I went there for quiet a lot.

So as we sat in the quiet of this natural church, suddenly my friends got up and started moving rocks for a fire pit and logs as benches. My face went pale.

We didn’t have a fire.

But I was astounded by what they did to this place. They just didn’t “see.” Next day I went back and as best I could I pieced it all together again.

Years later it looked the same again, but then a giant hemlock uprooted and fell in the center and what I saw was different.

The photos: Rocks in a Stream and Frog Spawn in a pond.


4 Months of Winter, 2 of Spring

         They got it wrong for New England.

We in the West County of Franklin County in Massachusetts have a different series of seasons than others in the state.

We have 4 months of Winter, 2 Months of Spring, 3 Months of Summer, 3 Months of Fall.

You can’t fight Mother Nature. It is this way. And we sure know how to complain about it. Yet; come the green growth and the sun, we kinda forget. For now.

Pictured here the farm pond at reflective sunset, the Cardinal King himself and a shot-from a video-he feeds she, as it is mating season.

Bits ‘o’ snow here and there.

A New Englanders Saunterings and Ruminations. Jody Scalise.