My backyard is mostly filled with an inground pool. However, I do have a small herb garden and a strip of flowerbed, and a porch overlooking the yard. Right now, the only flowers blooming are the impatiens I planted in May, and a few blossoms on my lilies, which are loaded with fat buds just waiting to explode. This lily is my subject for "Partial".
Even though only four buds have opened, it's glorious already. I can't wait until the other 20 (yes, 20 - I counted) blossoms open. This plant makes me happy, even when it's only partway to its glory.
The next subject was "Me Time." I love evenings by the pool with my husband, watching the setting sun (or the tiki torches) glittering on the silent water. But when it's just me, I love the backyard in the sunshine of early morning. I often spot bunnies having their breakfasts in the grass, chipmunks chasing each other in the bushes, and birds of all kinds fluttering around the feeder. The sun sparkles on the water of the pool and the dew on the greens in the garden. The neighborhood is quiet, with only the occasional whoosh of a passing car or a distant voice interrupting the sounds of nature - birds chirping, a breeze shuffling the trees, the murmur of water. It is wonderfully calming Me Time.
My home is full of stairs. Concrete stairs with iron railings leading up to the front door, inside wooden stairs going from the main floor up to the bedrooms and down to the basement, a short step leading out the back door. But the stairs with the most personality are the ones leading up to the porch. Once painted green, they have aged and weathered into something from a Wyeth painting. There's something very comforting and serene about their shabbiness, like a threadbare coat you can't bring yourself to throw away or a stuffed animal that's been loved out of its fur or a beloved book whose pages are yellowed and falling out. They're homely in both sense of the word.
And finally, my subject that "Begins with M" is mint. I originally planted it in my fledgling herb garden three or four years ago, and - as mint is wont to do - it has wandered all over the garden. I've torn it out in a few spots where it's begun to crowd out other plants, I've pulled up large chunks to give away to friends, I've hacked it back and stripped its leaves to use them in lemonade, iced tea, and mint juleps. But it still survives and thrives. It's my only herb that successfully overwinters in spite of my neglect. It's a tenacious little thing. I admire that.
And lest anyone worry that I'll get behind on my Photo A Day posting again, I can assure you that I will have no difficulty in finding tomorrow's subject: it's "pile."