Friday, November 26, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
When the stones are swimming ...
Although not living in Stone- but in Seanhenge, it never ceases to fill this arrogant, cold-blooded, heartless, egoistic and ever so nitpicking and sarcastic agnostic's heart with joy when ...
... seeing leaves on and around stones.
Maybe, this affection roots in another affection.
The affection for a saying the words of which
once perhaps are to be read on my grave-stone:
When the stones are swimming
the leaves will sink.
Giving shelter to a native
While Mrs. J. was enthusiastically digging in order to give winter-asylum to 20 or so dahlia-roots, I was busy with checking each nook and crankle of Seanhenge if somebody else needed my help. And I found ...
And thus, after a brief (photo-) shooting I took our winter-guest to one of the fuchsias currently acclimatising and thus preparing themselves in the greenhouse for hibernation in the cellars of Seangrange.
... a ladybird.
As you can see not one of those reckless (US-?) American invaders which are obviously not willing to peacefully share the resources, but an 'old European', a connoisseur whenever her/his/its eyes discover plant-lice on the menu-card.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
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