The turtle mound's head, and its right front leg. I think it's a snapper.I have seen pink snow. The spring beauties are so thick on Camp Tupper, all over the ancient Adina Turtle Mound in Marietta, that it looks just like pink snow. I can't walk by it; I'm agog and motionless. Here at home, spring beauties are everywhere in the woods, but they're lightly sprinkled on the forest floor. They must have ideal conditions at Camp Tupper, which is just an open park space right across from Bill's parents' house. Maybe it's the summer mowing, that keeps competing plants down. Maybe it's because, being a sacred site, it's never been plowed. Maybe it's the droppings of countless well-fed dogs through a couple of centuries. Whatever it is, I'm so thankful that the town isn't mowing right now, because I would have to throw myself howling in front of the machines.
Mourning doves, wading in glory.
Violets and dandelions, color accents in the symphony. Happy Easter!
Concentrated beauty. Imagine a little bulb the size of a garbonzo bean at the base of each one of these flowers. If Armageddon comes, I'm taking my folding shovel and heading for Camp Tupper, and I'll live on spring beauty corms. Baker will have to catch squirrels for us.
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