Mist makes my world dreamy . . . walking around the north field looking up towards the middle gardens and house . . . everything is cloaked in a cool veil. The White and Gray Birch mirror the white of the old farmhouse and fading Viburnums.
The curtain of mist softens everything in the landscape so that the bodies of Black Cherry and White Birch appear in dialogue. I know this is a stretch but these are my fantasy white and black stallions. I should love to have horses.
Oak between White Birch calling out to one another.
Ghostly White Birch between Oak and Black Cherry . . . all stately stand. Beneath the earth their tentacles of roots connect and communicate. Above their limbs and branches sway, breathe and exhale. Their trunks or bodies are like other worldly beings.
My Metasequoia (Dawn Redwood) and Apple trees spread their delicious deciduous canopies within the thick air. Dark trunks are like lines of charcoal chalk drawings in the landscape, while the spectral farmhouse sits in the distance longingly looking out beyond.
Metasequoia reaching out towards Black Cherry.
A surprise . . . within the mist and the Metasequoia . . . I eye a beautiful Rose-breasted Grosbeak perched near the top. The leaves cut through the light with their unique form.
Beads of mist clinging to the newly fanned out leaves. The Dawn Redwood is also known as 'water fir'.
The tiny fingered opposite leaves seem magical, when they reappear each year.
Moving up into the middle garden looking back through my funky English Hawthorn and Japanese Maple framing yet another shapely view of our native Black Cherry.
Peonies dwarfed before Giant Rock Maples.
Shrubberies and Shagbark Hickory wearing Climbing Hydrangea all enjoying the moist canopy of air.
Gray Birch, Shrubberies and Rock Maples . . . now we are on the south side of the house.
Apples and Gray Birches beckon as we go down towards the Blueberry field. Iris and Daylilies stretch and soon will show their blooms.
Gray Birches and Tree Swallows. It must be refreshing to fly through the droplet filled air.
Apples as seen from the south field. Wildflowers are bathed in the moisture.
Later up in the front garden delicate forget-me-nots wearing water spheres.
Pink Lily-of-the-Valley coated in misty dew.
Unfurling Hostas
Lupine leaves wear the jewel-like drops very well. There is a lovely sense of mystery walking about the gardens in this misty shroud. I love how the feeling is so altered from a bright sunny day. The trees all seem to be engaged in dialogue and stand out more sculpture like in the landscape. The coolness feels good on my skin and must be delightful to trunks, limbs and leaves. Later the sun breaks through and all is clear and dry again. I am thankful for this brief dewy interlude.
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