foggy mountain top
It's a beautiful day of fog in the Blue Ridge, a big cloud sitting down on the mountain. This particular fog looks like one that would vanish half way down the mountain to Whitehead. Down there, it would be overcast. I love walking in the woods on a day with fog. Once, I almost got lost on the other side of the Parkway in fog. I say this to ammend what I said about loving walking in fog. Not a hundred percent. It makes tree trunks, leaves, everything green glow with a beauty unseen in sunlight. No bleaching of the colors. The fog defines distance beautifully. Driving in fog is never fun. Walking is about the right rate of speed to penetrate fog.
The ferns are uncurling everywhere on the ground. Over the years, I've brought as big a variety of ferns as I've found to replant around the house. Only 2 varieties failed to make it. I've been told the wildflower bloodroot doesn't take well to transplanting. 30 years ago I planted a few bloodroot here, before I learned it couldn't be done, and they continue to flower. They have never multiplied. In the first several years some of them didn't come back, but the ones that continue do well. Between the house and the road, the ground is covered with purple wild violets. Evidently the ph was just right for them, because they took up everyplace. They have had their blooming cycle, and now the touch-me-nots, jewel weed, are coming up among them, a pair of little roundish leaves. They're all over the place too. I love them. They grow up to the knee and have beautiful orange and sometimes yellow flowers that look like little orchids, made specifically by evolution for a hummingbird's beak. They're my hummingbird feeders. Bumblebees like them too.
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