European Starlings. Thanks, Cecil John Rhodes

You asked me doubtfully - do you WANT starlings?

We have had 3 or 4 pairs together, nesting in our roof. Corrugated metal with bird-proofing. The bird-proofing came in a long strip to fit the profile at the open edge of the roof. Way back when, I see one of the labourers with a pair of scissors. Carefully cutting that strip into single-slice-of-bread-pieces. What is he DOING?! Ah well, sheepish look, we forgot to put it on, and now the roof sheets are screwed down. As the years pass, winter wind and delighted birds are ripping those bits out, one by one.

February figs

I am mystified that those eggs don’t cook. We see the parent standing on the breezy edge of the gutter, panting from the heat. Gratefully heading for the pond when relieved by the next shift. But those babies do hatch.

Put your prejudices to one side and look at these birds as if you had never seen them before. The male has a drag queen shimmer on his shoulders, and OTT ermine spots on his jacket and trousers. (Anyone else remember dressing up in a collar of cottonwool with black spots applied by a felt-tip pen?)

From Joy Frandsen’s

Birds of the South Western Cape 1982

Introduced to Cape Town by Cecil Rhodes in 1899. Has spread east to East London, north to the Namibian border, and to King William’s Town.

Raid fruit trees. Thought to drive indigenous birds away. Huge flocks form in winter, very often with Cape Weavers. Eat insects and soft fruit. Unpopular when nesting in the eaves as they bring ‘lice’.

Cecil Rhodes. Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe? Rhodes scholarship? We also have him to thank for grey squirrels. And the Himalayan mountain tahr, which has in recent years been culled, amid great protest, from Table Mountain. We would like the indigenous klipspringer. The tahr destroy valuable fynbos, while the restored klipspringer will be a balanced part of the ecosystem.


The Himalayan mountain tahr is a large animal, seldom seen, except by delighted hikers off the beaten track. We once drove over the Swartberg Pass, heading for Die Hel. Imagine a very steep road winding along the rocky crest of a dizzying precipice (I don’t like heights). Ahead silhouetted against the sky is a klipspringer. And as we approach. He is gone. Disappeared into thin air.

Landing strip April

From Paul Rose

The wildlife of South Africa 1979

The klipspringer male stands 61cm at the shoulder. The klipspringer is the only antelope in this country which is capable of agilely bounding from one precipitous rock face to another , often balancing on incredibly small surfaces while doing so . Evolution has enabled this robust little creature to walk on the front edges of its hoofs, and this adaptation gives the klipspringer mobility in seemingly inaccessible places.

In our last garden, we had red-winged starlings. Common residents of the mountain fynbos. Friendly companions to the klipspringers (= rock jumpers).

Photos by Jurg, words by Diana of Elephant's Eye

April showers bring us flowers

8C last night, 48F in your money, freezing here - I can hear you giggling Alaskan Christine. Watching Spirulina (our Italian sparrow, likes mozzarella) at his morning bath while I eat my muesli. Dip a toe in. EW W W that’s COLD and he takes off in horror!! Try again later. Still Cold! Oh well, get on with it. And he has a jolly good bath, using his battered wings to shower water all over the veranda.

Left new yellow variety, right same old orange

The aloes have buds, for us, a sign that winter is coming. Autumn and winter nectar for the sunbirds. See the Fibonacci spirals, like the scales on a pinecone, a pineapple’s cells, a raspberry, the tightly packed centre of a daisy. Once you have seen it, you see it everywhere in nature.

Top left nameless inherited, right Courvoisier

Bottom left Elizabeth of Glamis, right Burning Sky

We still have autumn roses, but they are now a bit more enthusiastic, so I cut the flowers with a few leaves. In between, tidying-up-pruning, before the big cut in August, when we turn to spring.


Our herbs, basil, sages, lavender are a singing mass of bees. Whenever I step out of the kitchen a sunbird takes off from the pineapple sage. Red Pennisetum is flourishing its burnished red leaves, but I’ve learnt my lesson, it is CONFINED to a pot.

Top left red sage from my mother’s garden, right pineapple sage

Bottom left red Pennisetum, right Ruttyspolia Phyllis van Heerden

Then we have the Addoful beauties. A mass of colour. A shimmer of yellow across the pond. Red flames from Big Red (original name huh?). Plumbago in the original white and palest blue (TOO pale for the camera unless you ‘adjust’ the colours)

Top Tecomaria in yellow and Big Red

Bottom Blue and white Plumbago

Apart from the herbs and the roses, the Abelia and Ficus below, these plants are all indigenous, native to South Africa. Altho mostly preferring a little afternoon shade and some water in the summer, as they are not winter rainfall plants. Just those two buckets of Watsonia bulbs.

Top left Hypoestes ribbon-bush, right blue sage

Bottom left Abelia, right Hemizygia

Perfect autumn gardening weather. Bits of Tickey Creeper, Ficus pumila to go in around the waterfall. (Someone said, don’t let the dog get too close, you’ll never see him again, but our plant hasn’t read that blog) And heaps of Watsonia bulbs dug up, sprouting, and in URGENT need of planting, today, somewhere, where?!


Each month I wander round the garden to document in photos what is eyecatching. (What’s gone, or come. What I could have expected to enjoy). And in a nice sensible, down to earth manner - what shall I spread around?


Amongst all my favourite favourites here, I want more Hemizygia. Imagine low lavender bush size, peppery fragrant leaves, small mauve trumpets, which are followed by long lasting purple sepals. Another aristocratic member of the Sage Family.

Photos by Jurg and Diana, words by Diana of Elephant's Eye

Twin baby elephants, the Big 7 and the Small 5

Addo 6


First the twin baby elephants. The Ungardener was excited that we saw them, as elephants rarely have twins. Both, do not always survive. They do have names, and an official birthday. I did get a reply from SANParks twin-baby-elephants-probably-not

The Big Seven. They have added the Great White Shark and the Southern Right Whale (sadly he was right, because he was the right one to hunt. Unsinkable. Right … and dead for it) to the original Big Five. Addo newly reaches from the Zuurberg mountains all the way to the sea. Bird Island with Cape Gannets and St Croix Island with penguins. 

Twin skip

The original Big Five? Elephant obviously. Rhino, lion and leopard - which we didn’t see, here, this time. And Buffalo. The male has large horns, which meet at the centre. This central boss is bulletproof. Benign bovine? 

Paul  Rose - The wildlife of South Africa

When aware of being chased, a buffalo will circle back on its tracks and await its pursuer. A charging buffalo puts its nose forward, nostrils flaring, and its horns back over its shoulders. With open eyes and bellows of rage, it will charge straight at its enemy, lowering its horns when at close range. It will viciously gore and knead its victim into the earth until little is left of him. 

Even lion are wary.

Setting out, earlyish in the morning. Hoping to see, something, before they all disappear into the shade and shelter of the Addo bush. Soft, hazy morning light.  Striped body not easy to make out in the dappled shade. 

A male kudu weighs almost 300kg. Book says - they can jump over 2m fences. Bulls will fight each other to death, if their horns interlock, they may BOTH die. Their defence against enemies, is to run like hell. Behold these stately horns, delicately marked face, with a kind expression. Then he turns. And the kudu is gone.


The Small Five? Elephant shrew. Ant lion. Red-billed buffalo weaver. Leopard tortoise. Rhino beetle.

Flightless Dung Beetles have right of way in Addo.  In fact, even the DUNG has right of way. Don’t drive over potential eggs or beetles. (Driving with one eye out for wildlife, and the other for Mind That Cowpat) As they carve off their bit of buffalo dung, form a ball, and roll it away to lay their eggs in, then bury it. Dung beetles are part of the scarab family, related to the black and white spotted fruit chafer on my roses, and the sacred scarab of Egypt. Large brown beetles. Built in trowels on his large front legs. Found amongst the spekboom jade-plant, with a Vulnerable conservation status. Making this small animal worth the attempt to photograph from Within your Closed Car.

Polite version of - If you are eaten by lions, its YOUR fault

From the official guide

Warning. The animals in this park are not tame! 

Lions and elephants are not tame.

 They are accustomed to vehicles, but not people. 

Getting too close could result in your death. 

Photos by Jurg and Diana, words by Diana of  Elephant's Eye 

Goats Do Roam wine

From Fairview Wine Estate

For my niece Carol in New Mexico

When we are heading into Cape Town for the day, sometimes for a treat, we stop at Fairview, on the slopes of the granite mountain of Paarl. Popular on the tourist route. Everyone stops at the Goat Tower as they head in.

These are Swiss Saanen goats, who would like to climb mountains. Fairview is famous for its wines - which we don’t drink - but I do love the quirky names. Goats Do Roam. There is a history  of the farm from Khoi, thru Hugenot, to today.

And for us, famous for its cheese. Goat cheese, which was exotic for South Africa, when they first started making it, in 1980. But we have Koeberg Nuclear Power Station’s French engineers to thank for supporting that fledgling industry way back then. 


And also cow’s milk cheese. We love Boland Blue (cheddar with blue veins). Blue Rock and Blue Tower. And they’ve just started selling feta in vacuum packed bags, instead of a messy puddle of brine. Oak smoked cheddar. White Rock with cranberries. Wineland Brie.  Bleu et Blanc. And we go home with enough deluverly cheese to keep us happy for weeks.

But what makes the Ungardener’s heart beat quarts of custard - is the bread. Most commercial bread in South Africa is steamed - which means it looks like crust, but it is rubbery, not crisp. And when I really want to annoy him, I pull out the crumb (soft centre) of a white roll. ROLL it into a BALL. Makes a lovely ball. Then see how high you can bounce it! No wonder people have wheat allergies. Imagine trying to digest that rubbery ball?!


The word glutinous, comes from the gluten in wheat. I guess somewhere around after the Second World War, They, started breeding new varieties of wheat. For the bakers to make Larger Lighter Cheaper loaves of bread. It looks the same as it used to, in size. And they added a spoonful of flour, so you know it is bread to eat, not the upholstery foam you are sitting on. 

Going home, with squashed bugs on the windscreen

! above 'home and with' is our Groot Winterhoek mountain

within the horseshoe of mountains around Tulbagh

Fairview specialises in artisanal bread. 

Baked fresh today, still hot from the oven. 

Smells like bread, good to eat bread.  

And with a Crisp Crust. 

Bread and cheese.

 Crusty bread and blue cheese. 

What more can you ask for?

 Photos by Jurg and Diana, words by Diana of  Elephant's Eye 

Apple Creek and the Elephant’s Eye Light Railway

Once upon a time the Ungardener had a toy train. Somewhere along the way, as he grew up, his mother gave it away. As a child, I never had a teddy-bear. I inherited one from my sister. Grown up, I said to myself - stop whining - you want a teddy-bear - GET a teddy-bear. 

October 2008

We flew from Zurich to London City Airport. Rather a strange experience to circle over London, and land, next to a water-skier. On the cabin-trolley in the plane was a pilot-bear. Remember the Red Baron in the Peanuts cartoons. World War Flying Ace, little leather pilot’s jacket, with sheepskin lining. Goggles to protect his eyes. Leather helmet, with two ears sticking out. And a white silk scarf to trail in the jet-stream. Pilot Bear still sits in our living-room next to a hand-crafted wooden aeroplane, once made for a very Young Ungardener.

November 2008

And in London, we bought the Ungardener two Mamod steam trains. Which lurked in their boxes, waiting to travel the world. A few circuits in Zurich, just to see if they worked. Then Cape Town. Finally in this garden, he had the time and space to build the Elephant’s Eye Light Railway at Apple Creek. (Sadly the steam engines are awaiting further attention.) But the lines are there, M’sieu Chocolat waits every evening, trying out each of the waiting benches, but there is N E V E R a train! He has to walk home, again. 

December 2009 

Apple Creek is one of our two swales, our rain garden. We have two 500 litre tanks to capture half of the rainwater from the roof (the other half is shared between the pond and the Spanish reed bed). When the tanks are full, the overflow goes to the pond and Apple Creek. Creek, swale, whatever, it is a hollow to capture the rain, and allow it to soak in, and do some good. Soften summer’s baked clay and soak down to the thirsty roots. Instead of flowing away, to neighbours, storm-water drains, rivers, and the sea.

Yesterday evening with Addoful Plumbago and Spekboom

You know how you start a new bit of garden. Dotting the pots around. Shall we have that there? And now it is so green, and overgrown - that I look at these pictures. And wonder if that IS still there, under the bulrushes and the reeds? I did see a few arum leaves, so will have to make sure they have a space to come thru.

Again yesterday evening. Hunt the bulrush. Pelargoniums from left to right, citrus, white and mint

This Apple Creek bed is very pleasing to look at. Gives the eye somewhere to rest. Simple green, just a few plants, repeated. The scattered flowers are mostly white, pelargoniums and Plumbago. A little gentle sky blue Plumbago, also easy on the eye. And delicate, fragile, little soft pink flowers on the citrus pelargonium. The Ungardener does top up the swale occasionally in summer, so the reeds have their roots in the damp ooze of a bog garden. Another place for the four o’clock clicking reed frogs to travel thru. 

Last October

Apple Creek because we inherited four apple trees. One died, we still have 3, and a handful of apples coming.

 Photos by Jurg and Diana, words by Diana of  Elephant's Eye 

Cycad Trail in the Zuurberg

Addo 5


The Ungardener likes game-watching, and there will be more to come. But I like to walk, look at birds, and flowers. Hiking trails are still a newish idea in our national parks. Can’t let the tourists out where there are lions about. 


Addo has 5 of South Africa’s 7 biomes. I started this series with Spekboom Jade Plant, which is in the Sub-tropical thicket. In the Zuurberg we have an overlap from the Nama Karoo. Expecting fynbos, but we find huge aloes.

We walked in the Zuurberg mountains. Pristine landscape rolling away into the distance. The heart and mind and soul expand - to breathe. No city crowds claustrophobia. Grassland, fynbos and forest.

If cycads are unfamiliar to you, you may see a tree-fern here (or a rather vicious palm-tree). But think tree-fern with an Agave Attitude and Teeth on the huge leaves. At the Kirstenbosch Indigenous Plant Sale I heard two cycad volunteers commiserating with each other. ‘I’m wearing a leather jacket AND an overall and the  *&^%@#^ things still attacked me’.  Plant collectors love Cycads, the rarer the better. And those with lots of money, will pay those struggling to survive, to poach plants from the wild. I wonder sadly, if this reserve being so accessible to a good dirt road, is the reason why we only saw a handful of cycads on this walk. In desperation the powers that be, have taken to microchipping large plants to protect them. 

From PlantZafrica  website

Encephalartos longifolius was found by Swedish botanist Carl Peter Thunberg and Francis Masson in 1772 during a trip to the Eastern Cape. This cycad can grow 4.5m. The leaves are 1 to 2m long. The female cones weigh up to 36kg. Classified under Appendix 1 of the CITES Convention, threatened with extinction. This species grows in acid sand with fynbos, or in grassland, or in succulent thicket. At altitudes between 200 and 1,500m. Encephalartos is only found in Africa. The seeds are especially toxic. During the Anglo-Boer War General Jan Smuts and his commando were besieged by British troops in the Zuurberg. With no food, some men tried cycad seeds. They were in agony as the poison took effect, but most had recovered by morning. Baboons, hornbills and small rodents do feed on the flesh covering the seeds. The plants grow slowly, which provokes poaching, but small plants are available from nurseries. Will grow in containers. In temperate or cool sub-tropical climates. (This species is the only cycad found growing in fynbos)

Up in the mountains we find fynbos (similar to Californian chaparral) but we have restios (reeds), and Ericas. Didn’t see any of those here. And Proteas. Just this one in flower. Unknown variety. 

And then there would be a huge variety of bulbs. But we saw just this one, which I am guessing is a Watsonia.

The trail winds around the crest. First the open grassland and aloes. Then down into the kloof (valley) to the cycads. And we continued thru the forest, and the grateful shade, it was hot when we started. We found the Watsonia and this straw flower, everlasting. Sparkling like silver in the deep shade.

Hike back up thru the sun, to the car. Discover, to my wonder that this part of the country is where half my garden comes from. Got blue Plumbago anyone? Elephant country! And Tecomaria, in the standard orange. Plumbago growing wild by the road, scattered with a sprinkling of sky blue flowers, does not a good photo make. But THIS is where your Plumbago comes from. 

Photos by Jurg and Diana, words by Diana of  Elephant's Eye 

Artists at work

'Sharing the Creative Process' blogs I enjoy. Never did get around to picking up on Jodi's call to promote new/other bloggers, till now.


http Pencil and Leaf/Apples
For the last six or so months, since I found this blog, Pencil and Leaf  has been on a Bee Odyssey. Valerie Littlewood has always explained that Mr Smith, wears a hat. And Mr Jones Never Wears a Hat. She talks us thru the process of finding out what makes This Bee unique, and how to show that in her composition. Recently she has taken to adding - Mr Smith lives by the sea, Mr Jones up the mountain. And to exploring precisely Which Plant This Bee prefers. With a recent post including a delicate pencil drawing of apple blossom - which is a joy in its own right.  If you are lucky enough to be in London this June - she has an upcoming exhibition at the Lumen Gallery. Lots of us write about bees. Enjoy both the artist's eye, and the naturalist's love of observation, the sense of wonder of both!

Her words - 

'I changed the painting, made her a little smaller and daintier, and, in tribute to their unsung work in the orchards, she is now flying up towards apple blossom. .. I think this will also be the title of the painting…There Will Be Apples.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

http valwebb egret
If you go to Val Webb's The Illustrated Garden you can follow this process step by step. I have deliberately chosen this mid-process picture to encourage you to seek out the before, and the magnificent after. Concept thru to, hold your breath - yes glazing successful.

Her words -

The design is a combination of botanical and bird studies from my nature sketchbook — I like to draw my subjects first, to get to know their angles and curves better before carving them into clay. ... Hooray! All the tiles survived the rigors of raku firing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

http Purple Podded Peas ink-paper-print
Go walking in the English countryside with Celia Hart. Find inspiration for a linocut. Share the whole process here.

And this fox stays in my mind. Where's the fox? Ah well, you'll have to go and look for it won't you?  http P P P first-new-print-of-2010 

Again Her Words -

"A fox broke cover" is inspired by the landscape of gently rolling fields, small woods and lines of wind-break trees surrounding the village where I live and work. As dusk approaches animals stalk the hedgerows and birds take to the air; this is the borderland between day and night, between the wild and the tamed world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

http Stone Art stone-chairs
Then we have Sunny Wieler stonemason/artist with his limestone bench. Imagine being able to say

One of my favourite things to build is stone seats. There is something very special about sitting in a stone seat, it feels very grand, almost throne like. When building stone seats, a portion of my time is spent sitting, making sure that they are comfortable and positioned right.

He introduces us to Stone-master Lew French
How to grow your own Chairs for National Tree Week?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

http Summerhouseart stained-glass-mosaics
And it was Helen Bushell at Summer House Art with her synchronicity, who reminded me that a handful of the blogs I enjoy reading - are these. 

Her words -

Soon I was experimenting and creating my own stained glass mosaics. And learning that with glass there is such a thing as “grout creep” where the grout creeps under the glass and looks sort of messy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since she writes about glass, which I love, we recently visited The Owl House at Nieu Bethesda. Nothing to do with live birds, everything to do with art and the artist and her work. But that is for a  future post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

http://susanjtweit.typepad.com/walkingnaturehome/

A picture is worth a thousand words. And I cherish words. With Susan J Tweit, I can step out of the here and now, via a stitch in time, and live in another life for a moment. These snippets don't do justice to her lyrical style, but the two together tell a story. Each of her posts is a finely crafted, tightly woven whole. A seamless garment, if you will.

Her words - http light-in-the-cancer-darkness

Holiday lights are meant to illuminate, a word that means "to light up," and also "to explain, make clear, elucidate." Light alleviates spiritual and intellectual darkness, bestowing knowledge and understanding.

As I strike a match to light a wick in the chill of solstice dusk, and place a flaming votive candle on its bed of sand, I think about the lessons luminarias teach. The bags by themselves are flimsy and flammable, the candles too small for robust light, the sand simply grit underfoot.

And here - http on-solstice-night

Bless you all: from Salida to DC, and Big Sur to Washington state, from Texas to the Eel River to Kansas, from Baja California del Sur to Sweden and Norway. Thank you for helping us illuminate this longest night of the year, the turning point when the sun "stops" in its journey, this time when we all wait and hope, for the gradual return of light and life. And thank you for illuminating the extraordinary journey Richard and I are taking with brain cancer. You've renewed our faith, and our belief in the power of love and light. What a gift it is to have you all lighting our way!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And lighting a candle for our future, we return to Val Webb with her  http collagraphs-in-the-city.  Showing disadvantaged inner city children that they ARE creative. Look at the deLIGHT on these faces! 

I'll close with her words - It’s always inspiring to see kids get excited about art. So I was on the receiving end of a lot of inspiration this week, as I hauled my etching press to two inner city schools to make collograph prints with students in the third through fifth grades. I’m one of three studio artists participating in Inner Space/Outer Space, a new arts outreach program sponsored by Centre for the Living Arts and partially funded by sales of Alabama’s “Support the Arts” automobile tag. And collograph printmaking is particularly cool, since they are largely created from things that might otherwise end up in the landfill: scraps of fabric and wallpaper, leftover ribbon and paper, cardboard and collected feathers. So is it conservation or art? You decide.

Any that you would add? Real artists? Truly inspired?
From Christine in Alaska Artmakinginthenorth whats-opposite-of-shearing-sheep

Photos and words from the original blogs, 
chosen by Diana of  Elephant's Eye 

Autumn roses in the Paradise Garden

Still containing my soul in patience. Waiting for the weather to be kind enough, that the prunings can be tucked into the 'didn't make it thru the summer' gaps. I call the rose garden - this way to Paradise. Paradise is a Persian (now Iranian?) word for garden. An oasis of cool shade, with water to be seen and heard. A high surrounding wall, somewhere to sit. Flowers (of course), bulbs and roses. With the four rivers of  Paradise, four paths, four beds.

Top left, the entrance (that's Pushed out of Paradise), with flourishing transplanted roses, backed by giant/Spanish reeds. Invasive aliens - but they provide wildlife habitat for the weaver birds - which is another reason why we chose this plot. Top right, I am peering thru Tropical Sunset and Casanova which are towering over my head (with a distant glimpse of waterfall). Will be pruned back with long stalks, as I harvest the flowers which are coming thru now. Bottom left - the Dark Side, with Papa Meilland waving above the wall. Bottom  right - blue foliage to set off pink flowers.

In the centre around the sun-dial I am working on displaying the four sets of different coloured foliage (and flowers). Top left - we had Festuca glauca, but the heat seems to be too much for it. Dianthus is happy, will spread that first clump around. Also variegated Tulbaghia. Top right - was trying black Mondo grass, but am realising, between the dark colour and the fact that it is a Japanese lily, better move it to afternoon shade. Purple Dimorphotheca jucunda would be happily prepared to claim the entire bed thanks! Bottom left - the lamb has lost one of his ears. Despite the grey fur, this ALSO doesn't like the hot afternoon sun. Santolina seems happy, just hate the nasty mustardy yellow flowers. Have lost the Winter Magic miniature, and tall Spiced Coffee too. Bottom right - ivory striped Liriope, and various golden grasses battling on.

You have had the long, the wide view. But there are flowers. Another reason why I pick them, to enjoy in the house - instead of leaving them to make toast in the garden. Top left - Perfume Passion with a few drops of the last rain shower. Top right - Peace. Bottom left - Courvoisier, smells delectable, and brings bunches of flowers as it gets going again. Bottom right - Pennisetum Rubra, bought for the Dark Side. They said it is not as invasive as the usual one. So I planted it, and it grew bigger than me. Dug it up again, put it in 4 pots, 2 died, and we now have two reasonable sized bits IN POTS!

Today is hot again, but Aragon remembers, just like yesterday, when the sun was kind enough to bask in.

Photos and words by Diana of  Elephant's Eye