tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14731145.post1905013970741507048..comments2023-07-26T08:12:40.144-04:00Comments on Flatbush Gardener: Why I Garden: The Sensual GardenChris Kreussling (Flatbush Gardener)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08467595231097695124noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14731145.post-53482620934665460152007-06-03T22:08:00.000-04:002007-06-03T22:08:00.000-04:00Cicadas! I miss their incessant drone through sti...Cicadas! I miss their incessant drone through still, warm days. Miss finding the empty cases and wondering what it feels like to escape your shell and unfurl your wings for the first time. No cicadas out here on the left coast. No lightening bugs, either.Haydenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02758977872663382006noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14731145.post-9121603130549158382007-06-02T21:49:00.000-04:002007-06-02T21:49:00.000-04:00Thanks for your bird advice, Xris. I'm going to ke...Thanks for your bird advice, Xris. I'm going to keep an ear out for peeping babies. It may just be an adult bird periodically visiting to catch bugs or something...anyway, I'll be sure to let everyone know if I solve the mystery.<BR/><BR/>Nice photo. I remember finding cicada skins like that on trees when I was a kid in Florida. Haven't seen one yet in Manhattan, though!Steve Reedhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11684120060438252945noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14731145.post-22662587676211919792007-06-02T21:12:00.000-04:002007-06-02T21:12:00.000-04:00What a wonderful post, Xris. I have never examined...What a wonderful post, Xris. I have never examined this idea consciously, but after reading your post I had a bunch of moments and memories flood into my head. Here are just two: <BR/><BR/>Being so enthralled with the raspberries in my grandparents' patch that I found myself so deep I required assistance with my own extrication. The sun, the taste of the warmed berries, the scratchs of the brambles on my bare arms, my grandparents' laughing eyes as they helped bend branches and escape...<BR/><BR/>Being in the quiet, cool woods behind my parents' house in the spring. There were several vernal pools in that woods, and one in particular was my favorite place of all--it was bordered by an almost-triangle of thick old fallen tree trunks. I would sit there and smell the earthiness of the rotting trunks and just be... and eventually the little frogs would become used to my presence and begin to sing...Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14395380166485303934noreply@blogger.com