morning on the moops

It's chilly and damp here, dense fog earlier, but I couldn't resist stepping out the door in my pajamas and slippers to take some photos of the garden. I love this time of year. My garden is always a work in progress. Every time I look, I see something to move or something to do. I've cleaned out so much in the last few years that I am afraid of having open spaces.

This little bench has been in this spot under the red bud tree for years. Ella asked to sit on it last weekend and I said better not unless you want splinters! Regis assembled a new bench the other days so we are clearing a spot for it.

The cairn is growing and changing. Each time I attend to it, I move something. I let the rocks speak to me, Bob, and they do.

Two projects in process: our patio vegetable and herb garden and the little space for the kids. I'm thinking of putting it toward the front so I can plant some sun-loving flowers they can pick...or some giant sunflowers.

Saint Francis looks out over the garden. He is the patron saint to animals and the environment. He is my dad's presence in the garden.

Good morning to my friend, Karen, in New Jersey and to my mom. Mom has been sick with the dang influenza B virus. Send happy thoughts, light, and love their way.