The butterfly bush was a gift from Bowen's April many years ago after attending a writing event there. Barely a foot-tall at the time, the bush has since grown to 12-feet and, like the "big tree" in P.D. Eastman's Go, Dog, Go! (1961), is alive with activity. Not dogs, but bees, humming birds and with the recent re-filling of my bird feeder: chickadees and finches.
When the sun gets too hot to sit in the wicker chair, I scoot over to the lounger under the butterfly's boughs, which I trained to form a shademaker. Something I did not foresee when re-filling the feeder is how messy birds get, tossing out five seeds for every one they take with them. At first I thought these seeds would germinate and take root in the wildflower patch below, but, as pointed out to me by my neighbour Deenie, they will only encourage the pack rat.
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