Well…berries on a dogwood tree. Same difference.

A WRITING PROMPT FROM ME TO YOU: Red and green when it isn’t Christmas.
MA

Well…berries on a dogwood tree. Same difference.
A WRITING PROMPT FROM ME TO YOU: Red and green when it isn’t Christmas.
MA
I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, but now live in the woods in southern Indiana. Though I only write fiction, I love to read non-fiction. The more I learn about this world, the more fantastic I see it is. Marian Allen's Google profile
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Frank Hubeny
September 13, 2020 at 4:17pmI like the contrast between the light on the leaves and the dark shadow in the background.
Marian Allen
September 13, 2020 at 5:22pmI take that kindly, since you take such beautiful pictures, yourself!
Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt
September 13, 2020 at 5:16pmI’m missing MY dogwood trees, back in New Jersey. There are some here, I think, but the seasons were tied to ours.
We had an interesting one outside our kitchen window. Originally a dogwood with white blooms, over the last couple of years we were there, I noticed that it would have white blooms, and then, a short while later, pink ones.
It took me a couple of years to realize what had happened: a samara from a pink dogwood tree had lodged itself in the crotch of the white dogwood, and somehow found enough soil and moisture (this was the north side of the house) to set out roots when it germinated, and they had somehow penetrated into the white dogwood, thus doing a highly improbable self transplant.
I love science! It makes magic.
Marian Allen
September 13, 2020 at 5:24pmWow! That’s fabulous! I didn’t realize dogwoods had samara. What a treat that was for you!
Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt
September 13, 2020 at 5:47pmUnusual – and kind of sweet. Something nice to remember about the house we lived in for 37 years, and put so much love into.
I can still put myself there. I have to make an effort to get all the pictures into one place so I can see them.