Gardening above ground, bluebirds and poetry

My friend, Mary Mike, works in her yard all the time. She has the most energy of anyone her age that I know. I noticed recently that her bushes have become trees. Her trees have spread all over, and she has plans to take some of them down. I had two trees cut this spring. Both were dead. I didn't even realize it. I need others trimmed or cut down, but decided to wait until winter when the leaves are gone.

I once could see Lake Chatuge from my upper deck. Now trees have hidden my view. I am a tree lover. Cutting down a tree hurts me, makes me sad, but I am being smothered by these beautiful giants. 

My gardening is all done on my upper deck these days. This year I was late buying my favorite annuals, but I planted marigold seeds given to me last year and I planted Jalapeno pepper seeds.  I also planted a potato and the plant has done well.

First pepper on my plant. I chopped it and added it to spaghetti last night. 

                      Background is my drive down below and the woods to the east of my house. 

I tried to grow tomatoes on my deck, but I get very little sunshine and my brother, Rex, who was quite a gardener, said the shade was my problem. Lucky for me, the peppers don't seem to mind.

In the twenty-five years since we bought this house, the dogwood trees, the oaks and pines have grown so large around the property that I only get a small patch of midday sunshine. My Azaleas that were beautiful a few years ago are pitiful now. Only one plant blooms and seems to thrive. My Knock Out roses are not doing well although we have had lots of rain. 

My roses should look like this.

My yard is on a slope and I can't walk there safely now. Down in south Georgia, when I was younger, I grew the most beautiful Azaleas. I had a green thumb, but I seem to have lost it somewhere.

Behind Kodi are my Azaleas in my yard in south Georgia

I, like many others these days, have problems keeping my spirits up, staying positive. My little deck garden helps. I have hummingbird feeders there and I hang suet feeders near a window where I can watch the birds feed.

Eastern bluebirds 

I have a bluebird box in my yard, and in the spring, they usually produce two hatchings. My problem is that I have to ask someone to clean out the old nests or they won't lay eggs in the box. It is not easy to find someone when I need them.

This poem about bluebirds is by Mary Oliver, one of the most loved poets in recent years. 

WHAT GORGEOUS THING

I do not know what gorgeous thing

the bluebird keeps saying,

his voice easing out of his throat,

beak, body into the pink air

of early morning. I like it

whatever it is. Sometimes

it seems the only thing in the world

that is without dark thoughts.

Sometimes it seems the only thing

in the world that is without

questions that can't and probably

never will be answered, the

only thing that is entirely content

with the pink, then clear white 

morning and, gratefully, says so.

  --- Mary Oliver