Flowers and Floating the River

It is a sad fact that nearly all of the photographs that my dear husband has taken of me over the years have made my toes curl up. He seems to have a gift for catching me at unflattering angles, or so it seems to me. But a couple of months ago, as we were working hard potting up bedding plants, he caught a good one and I thought I'd share it with you. He is so good at making me laugh.

We made potting up easy for ourselves this year, or at least easier than in years past. That's the bucket of the tractor in the bottom right of the photo: dh used it to scoop up well-broken-down horse manure from the barnyard and bring it down to where I was working in front of the house. What a bonus, not to have to use wheelbarrows to do this!

As you can see, our collection of pots is motley, so say the least, ranging from the utilitarian to the frankly ramshackle. But by now, mid-August, the state of the pots doesn't matter. I always deliberately over-plant them so that when they fill out the flowers completely hide the pots. I'm pretty pleased with how they're looking right now.

As you can see, I potted these plants up with blithe disregard for colour: it's a cheerful mishmash that I was hoping would look like an untended herbaceous border in an old English garden. I think I got what I was after, complete with the grass growing up between the pots. It's not really much of a display of flowers, our seventeen pots, given the size of the yard, but it pleases us and looks summery, so we do it.

Another summery thing we did last month was to go down to the river on a hot, hot day and plunge in. I took my camera, and managed not to drop it in the river.

These yellow pines that threaten to fall into the river are stunning, and their root systems, revealed by the scour of the river, look like sculpture to me.

My dear husband had casting practice on his mind, so he waded out to just about the centre of the river and cast and cast, stopping occasionally to untangle his line. I helped a bit. As you can see, even at this point in the summer, mid-July, the river was fairly shallow.

Me? I floated the river. Not the way the locals do, on everything from inner tubes to floaties, those ridiculous inflatables in the shapes of everything from mushrooms to dragons and unicorns and alligators. Me, after the shock of forcing myself to submerge (inch by painful inch) into the cool water, I simply lay back, took a deep breath and totally relaxed. My water shoes kept my feet at the surface of the water, I extended my arms out to the sides, tilted my head back, and there I was floating, floating . . . It was miraculous.

The current carried me slowly down the river, but I wasn't worried: the difficulty was having enough depth rather than too much, so arresting my progress downriver was simply a matter of dropping my feet and leaning forward until I had my feet under me on the riverbed. But for the most part I just floated. With my head in the water, I couldn't hear a sound. I fixed my gaze overhead and watched the sky pass overhead, with pigeons and swallows and, since I was close to the shore, the branches of the pines. This is how close some of the branches passed over my head.

Aren't yellow pine cones and needles gorgeous?

I took the one below after I'd lowered myself as close to the surface of the river as I could and still keep the camera dry.

I love this huge pine beside the sandy open spot where people park their cars. The river is at the end of the fence over the rise.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I'd been a bit balky at dh's suggestion that we trek to the river but once there I totally got the point. It was such a simple thing, but it was one of the highlights of the summer. Next time, I'll be in the truck with my water shoes on as soon as he makes the suggestion.

Comments

[Wendy]

Lovely photos, Anne. It makes me so wish that I could have hung out with you and dh that day.

[Anne at Shintangle Studio]

Thanks, Wendy! Just think: when you retire, you too will have time for this sort of thing. You can come and hang out with us on the river whenever you like. Wouldn't that be great?

[Mahina Rose]

Ah, Yes, the ever trusting float on the back. I love the way the inhalation makes you rise up out of the water slightly, and if the water is really calm, you can let all your air out of your lungs and sink to the point that only your nose is sticking out above the water. I will think of you on your river next time I get a chance to float (that might just be in a bathtub at this point in the summer. Take care. Mahina

[Anne at Shintangle Studio]

Hi Mahina:

Great to talk to you on the phone this morning, and thanks for the comment here! It was great to hear about the quilt barns you've been showing to horse-drawn wagon-loads of people: perhaps if I spread the word it could be a "thing" here too. I'll think of you and your lovely Fjords at the Rock Creek Fair this weekend; maybe the draft horse show will revive at some point.