Marina Surprise

 Our first day this summer at Buffalo Marina and what on earth was going on? 

Every boat that could float seemed to have put out into the harbour and dropped anchor. It made me think of what Dunkirk must have been like.  What was going on? Well apparently there was going to be an air show, the first time thy'd held one at the harbour around the corner. Tickets were 149 dollars - to park your car and sit next to it. That is if you could get a ticket. They were all sold out. But those people should be kicking themselves - forking out 149 dollars when you could get a perfectly good free view from the park by our marina. As it happened, quite a few people had worked that out.

  

We chugged out in Titanic 2 and dropped anchor alongside the other boats but it was a bit of a windy day and we were rolling about all over the place, so we headed back and joined the crowds in the park. 

The big attraction were the Blue Angels, which were the US Navy equivalent of our Red Arrows. The previous day they'd had to cancel because of fog and we wondered if the cloud cover might not be too much again today. Then someone shouted, "here they come!"

It's not easy to get a  close-up of fast-moving planes with a cheap smartphone but I got a bit of them. The longer shots were slightly more successful.

I was a little disappointed that there were only four Blue Angels. The last time I saw the Red Arrows there were at least six. But they made up for their lack of numbers by putting on a heart-thumping show that lasted nearly an hour. Perhaps it's still going on.

Some things in life are still free. 

Though they weren't impressed of course.

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Outdoors Pursued

 Well, friends, we all have our fantasies. I've had several over the years but my current one is to own a bit of forest. Where I can commune with nature and indulge in that delightful Japanese pastime called "Forest Bathing."  Around here that shouldn't be as difficult as it sounds. There are forested hills everywhere around us and land has always been pretty darn cheap, as they say.

 We even have a small forest at the end of our back garden, which is delightful in its way and if you position yourself right you don't see another house. The only trouble is that you never know when our lawn-mowing neighbours will start up their infernal machines, which must be the loudest in the eastern United States and are only exacerbated by the echo from the aforesaid surrounding hills.We actually have to shut all our doors and windows when they're at it.  Peace and quiet cannot be guaranteed. So I found myself idly perusing the local property listings. Perhaps there might be a few isolated arboreal acres going for a song and if they came with a pond, so much the better. Well, did I get a rude awakening. Every scrap of land listed was already under offer - and some, with a basic house attached, were going for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Being a pessimist and inveterate conclusion-jumper, my first terrible thought was, "Yikes, someone's buying it all up for windmills!" (A scourge we have mercifully escaped in our immediate vicinity, thanks largely to a neighbour who will one day be canonised, who refused to sell.)  

  "No it's not that, said an estate agent friend, "It's two things - Covid and the economy. Covid has driven people to snap up anything that lets them be in the great outdoors. And the economy is so uncertain people are putting their trust in land. "Like Scarlett O'Hara," hubby remarked. 

  Oh well, perhaps all the townies buying up forests will get tired of their new investments and want to unload them. But then again, I suppose I'm a townie trying to buy up a forest too. 

  And I suppose it will have to remain a fantasy for now. And our own little forest isn't half bad - after the lawnmowers have done their worst. 

Back Seat Driver?

 As my American friends say, I just had to share this. I went back to my car after shopping at the supermarket and another vehicle had parked next to mine.  I did the proverbial double take. Not wanting to be too conspicuous, I snagged a quick photo from inside my car.

Of course this is rural western New York, not California, where the window would probably no longer be intact. 

It must be a new fad. Hubby said he saw the Queen going down US41 in Florida. Perhaps she was having a surreptitious, if well-earned holiday.

Turkeys Trot

 Dateline: Cattaraugus County, western New York state

 For reasons known only to itself Google is not letting me upload any photos to the blog today. Maybe I've fallen foul of the thought police - yippee! I quite relish the prospect of notoriety. They looked to be only photos of wild flowers but you never know these days. But that's OK as the big story of the day doesn't have photos to go with it - sadly. Hubby has just returned from a saunter around our jungle and called out,  "You'll never guess what I just saw! A little turkey!" The chap apparently wasn't too pleased to see hubby on his patch and fanned out his tail as best he could to try and look menacing. As he was only the size of a smallish chicken, he didn't really succeed. So it seems the lads are back - perhaps distant descendants of the lot that colonised the sunlounger.  The downside is that there will now be more potential customers - or should I say consumers - for the blueberries, if and when they materialise.

Goodness is that the Date?

 Dateline: Cattaaraugus County, western New York state

  Where has the time gone? We've now been back up north for a week and as always it takes a while to get one's bearings - remember which way to turn for the post office and where the apples are in the supermarket and which side of the bed to get out of and where we keep the kitchen knives and so it goes on. As always there have been surprises. Mostly good this time I have to say. Our massive deer fencing operation appears to have saved the blueberrry bushes and rhodos from attack.  Of course, where the former are concerned we still await a summer of battles against birds, chipmunks, turkeys and other marauders. We found some delicious turkey soup in the freezer left by a visiting family member - all local from our friend's farm. 

The robin had gone elsewhere to build her nest so the garage motion detector lights were unoccupied. (Though there is a row of small nests in the eaves of the porch.) The blossoms were out, bumble bees buzzing away.

The neighbours' pond still there.

And Rudolph's red nose still attached.

I've had to get used to walking up a hill again and there are things I'm missing.

But there's something wonderful about catching the early spring. The mornings frosty not humid and very little traffic on the roads.  Puffing up the lane I met a neighbour, "It's a while since I've  climbed  a hill!" 

"Me too", she said, "We just came back from Florida". 

"Oh, which part?" 

"Naples". 

"Gosh only down the coast from us. We were in Venice!" 

Solo in America.

Our Amazing Two-Tone Frangipani and Other Stories

 In a week when I discovered my inner hooligan, shocking hubby by stating that I'd have been there at Old Trafford demonstrating with those Man United fans - though I do draw the line at trespass and throwing bottles at the police - I thought something calming would be in order. 

  The garden has burst into early summer - though my neighbours are saying it's been the driest Florida spring in living memory. The staunch frangipani put out out its pink flowers with their extraordinary, almost synthetic scent...

...and its yellow flowers with ditto.

I thought it was one of nature's miracles and it took me a while to work out there are actually two bushes, if you can call them that, planted right next to each other and intertwining. These things are amazing. Last year I planted the broken off stub of one that had been lying on the ground for months and it actually sprouted. Unfortunately, this winter - as you do when you're gardening - I stepped back and accidentally broke it in half. So I planted the two halves and now they're both sprouting again.

Amazing, other-worldly plant. Here it is with the early morning sun just reaching it.

Meanwhile last year's Easter lily has flowered.

And a crafty bougainvillea that lay low for years has suddenly exploded. It must be loving the drought.

Plus something else weird and wonderful. I planted this, which is some sort of ornamental pineapple because I liked the orange coloured fronds.

I ignored it for a while and then saw it was actually bearing fruit.

Unfortunately I don't think you can eat it.  

It will be sad to leave all this when we go up north in a few days.