Some of the prettiest sites at the Bowman's Hill Wildflower Preserve weren't flowers
at all, they were trees. When I lived in Nashville, red bud trees were everywhere. Around here, they are less common. But there's one in the corner of these pictures.
I checked out another up close and personal.
There was an iron tree (T recognized it from pictures she'd seen in books...that was happy).
What remains of this tree has clearly been put to work on behalf of the woodpecker population in the forest.
I could look all day at views like this.
And I wouldn't mind a little cabin in the woods with a view like this one.
I keep coming back to the dozens of pictures I made at Bowman's Hill. They're a daydreamy respite from the crazy pace of the last month of school.
As I contemplate the damage of first 6 months of the Cheetoh Kleptocrat’s rule, I cannot fathom what the next 6 will bring us. I grow weary of the vigilant fear that is occasioned by this president. Time to exercise the 25th amendment, y’all. I like to read (I just finished Jane Austen’s Emma), garden, cook, and talk.
I love… baby bunnies, summer blooms, morning coffee, flip flops and toe rings, planning history lessons, Harriet Tubman, enchanted fairy gardens, farm stands, homegrown tomatoes, thinking about my bulletin board, crisp white shirts, leisurely summer days, mowing the lawn, pinning my hair in a bun, lush green hostas, shiny wood floors, adventures with T, and a sweaty workout.