We are enjoying the adventure of seeing spring bust out at our new Pines. Not so far from the old Pines, but very different in many ways, the new Pines possess a dry-part-of-the-year creek bed cutting through one corner of the property. Currently it is full and slowly moving away and will likely find its way to the not too distant Muskegon River.
Where the creek passes under the road through a culvert and enters our property, there is a pool, created by old fallen trees and alder bushes. Currently, it is the happy home to a quantity of several kinds of frogs, from spring peepers to the deep-throated guys who sound like quacking ducks. It seems that there is some variety of frog ‘talking’ all the time. A turtle sighting will not surprise us. We will be looking for moisture loving wildflowers too. That will be quite a treat after years of drought tolerant and dry, sandy soil plants and flowers.
By Mom’s Day the yard will be brightened by a couple of long rows of daffodils and their assorted relatives. I am really looking forward to that. A few early bloomers found their way to our table. They are a wonderful treat and I will cut more. Some perennial plants are beginning to show their faces. There are iris popping up and creeping phlox greening nicely. It will be exciting to see what kind of flowers May showers bring to the yard.
There are several varieties of flowering trees here too. By the time we knew them last year they had been, for the most part, defoliated by the sponge moth, formerly known as the gypsy moth, infestation. We’ll see what harm, if any, they did to this year’s growth and bloom.
There continues to be a parade of most of the usual bird residents and visitors and some unusual ones too. It will be interesting to see who nests nearby. A pair of cardinals, something which eluded us in the woods, has taken up residence at the edge of the yard. It won’t be long until it’s time to hang the hummingbird feeders…and swat the mosquitoes. Some things do not change.
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We all know that every day is mom’s day, whether it is acknowledged like Mom’s Day in capital letters or not. Mom is always happy to see and hear from you. Visit her if you can. If not, be sure to give her a call or, if she does such things, drop her a text. Better yet, do all of the above and send her a real card too.
A real card is all I ask from my busy and far off children. Although, if that doesn’t come my way, a phone call is great. Son Matt takes that old wish to heart, especially since he forgot once. He has taken to sending a card my way at least a week early. He will also call. This year daughter Carrie will be home for the official Day, and needless to say I am delighted. We talk often and text frequently, but to have her here is the best gift.
When they were tots, they brought me little fistfuls of dandelions, lily of the valley and violets on Mom’s Day. And as every mom knows, those are the best bouquets ever. Don’t forget your mom on Mom’s Day. Mine is gone, but never forgotten. I’ll think of her as I do every day.
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I’m sorry that the mysteries of the internet lost the last paragraph of last weeks’ Postcard. And so I give it to you this week. It is important. From the Postcard of April 29…
I’ve decided to evoke the voice of the late Ova Brown, author of the old Clam River News during the neighborhood gossip days of the Marion Press. Barry made Ova’s column every week. He visited Norman and drank gallons of coffee with him through the years. The Brown’s knew Barry and his brothers as boys and men. She wrote things as she saw them, and would likely have said something like this in speaking of the passing of our longtime friend, Barry Prielipp…
Winterfield is mourning the passing of a good neighbor, Barry Prielipp. He was a family man, cattle farmer, gardener, cook, canner and a friend to many. He was always there to lend a hand to his neighbors, winter and summer. He grew a huge garden, from which he preserved many quarts of vegetables for his family. He also liked to share its bounty. He left us too soon. He was a good friend to us and we will miss him. Our condolences to Annette and his family.
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This week’s photo is of the old Marion Dam, taken April 1, 1923, as spring flood waters are pouring through the mill side of the dam.
