It happens all around us. Sometimes it is a harsh reminder, other times an appreciation and relief. I had already planned this post around it without really looking at it for what it was. Survival. Survival of the fittest.
K and I planted these native to Utah cacti last year. We have no idea what varieties they are, but K loves the desert and I was looking for water wise ways to beautify the yard. What a great compromise. And what a perfect example of survival. These spiney specimens made it through a harsh winter of severe (for Utah) low temperatures that extended well into spring but they are happy and healthy and are preparing to bloom!
And every time I attempt to pull the weeds that have crept in I am left with stinging pricks all over my hands and arms, and the weeds are left to proliferate! What a great survival skill. Hide behind the bigger, meaner cousin and no one will dare to pick on you.
Any suggestions on how to uproot the sneaky little buggers will be gladly received!
Not all the blooms perished in the winter blast just after Mother’s Day. Those buds that kept a low profile and their heads down were able to weather the storm. This may be the only survivor on this bush. I am expecting the neighboring cream colored variety to open over the next couple of days and will have a few more on that plant. I am more appreciative this year of their beauty simply because there are fewer of them.
BEAUTIFUL BROODY BETTY
This lady is beginning to exhibit signs of going broody. It’s not full fledged yet, but she is wanting to stay in the laying box till later in the day. She’ll be sadly disappointed if it develops further as I have no intention of hatching any chicks this year. If I did I’d have to be sneaky about it. Since we don’t have a rooster to fertilize the eggs I’d have to swap out the infertile ones.
UNFIT TO SURVIVE?
If I had my choice I certainly wouldn’t have made that determination, but sometimes Mother Nature can be a B**CH! K had to put one of the quail out of their misery the other day because it had become egg bound and ended up with an extreme prolapsed vent. Not only was the vent protruding, but she was bleeding as well. Not a good sign. While vent prolapses can be cured if caught early that was not the case for the poor quail.
And it seemed that a new generation of quail was not to be had by her wild neighbor either. I had been working on the drip system in my berry garden a few days later when I had the pants scared off me by a quail that had been hiding under a raspberry bush. I’d been near the bush for several minutes already and must have come within inches of the quail a few times before she finally took flight. I would have thought nothing more of it until I mentioned my scare to K and he asked if she was on eggs. Which of course she had been.
K assured me that if I just quickly finished what I was doing that the hen would be back. But minutes passed to hours and hours turned to nightfall. We did see the hen with her mate hanging around on the roof above the garden where the nest was, but she never did come back down and abandoned her eggs. I felt guilty for days afterwards for unknowingly scaring her off. K has said that it is better this way because a hen that is too afraid to go back to her nest after such a minimal experience would just past those same traits onto her offspring. But oh how I would have loved to have seen them all survive and parading around the yard after they had hatched!