Liz Pierce

I’m sort of Goblin-like when it comes to hot air balloons – no matter how many times I watch them take off, I still love the variety of colors and patterns different balloonists come up with. So when I have the opportunity to go to a balloon festival, I’ll happily get up early and go with my friends to watch the huge, colorful creations fill and rise just after sunrise.

(And because I’m Goblin-like when it comes to hot-air balloons, I thought I’d also link to this cool video of Hot Air Balloons on YouTube.)

Enjoy!

There’s a row of poplars along the back fence. They’re probably too close to the fence – the original owners of the house planted them, not us – but they’re an excellent screen between us and the neighbors.

Sadly, one of the trees took some serious damage over the winter, and didn’t survive. It was, of course, the one that was perfectly positioned to shade the back porch from both the afternoon sun and the neighbor’s yard. Much as we regret doing so, we’ve had to take it out to prevent the dead, dying, and drying branches from breaking off and landing on something (or someone).

I’m going to miss that tree – both for the shade it provided, and the sound of the wind blowing through the branches and rustling the leaves.

Bye-bye big tree.

A spider web appeared in the corner of the back porch doorframe during the night – complete with spider! Unfortunately, my little “Charlotte” isn’t a writer – or at least, I can’t make out any inspiring words in her web. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have stories to tell.

Guess I’ll just have to do the writing for both of us!

The original Charlotte’s Web (by E.B. White) was a childhood favorite, and a favorite of my children’s. Of course, that rapscallion, Templeton (the Rat, in case you don’t remember) was *my* favorite character!

Anyway, no pigs or rats or other barnyard critters around here. Just a spider, sharing the morning with us, inviting us to read what we will in her web.

I live in a place that doesn’t usually get a lot of rain in the summer, and has cold, snowy winters. As a result, I primarily plant drought- and cold-tolerant plants, like the Ice Plant and Sedum in this photo.

This year, we’ve had a particularly wet spring. What that means is that a lot of other plants – the kind we usually call “weeds” – have had the opportunity to really get a foothold. You can’t see them well, but bordering the back of this small garden plot, there are a bunch of green plants with purple flowers. I have no idea what they are – I didn’t plant them. They simply took advantage of the abundant water (and the fact that I’m not the sort of gardener to go out and dig up weeds in the rain) to populate, spread, and thrive.

Oddly enough, I sort of like them. So for the moment, I’m going to leave them where they are. Once the flowers start to die-off, I’ll dig them up and replace them with something intentional. With any luck, I’ll have them out before they set seed for next spring’s crop.

But for now, the ice plant is thriving, the sedum is spreading, and I’ve got something purple growing in my garden.

As the seasons change, I wanted to share a favorite haiku with my friends here:

Ever walk down the road or through the park and do a double-take because you thought you saw something unusual out of the corner of your eye? Maybe it really was a bit of sunlight reflecting on an unusual patch of moss growing on a tree – or maybe it was a tree sprite, a leprechaun, an enchanted toad, or a goblin. Who knows?

I like to think that there’s magic all around us. Sometimes we’re too caught up in the day-to-day business of living in the Real World to notice it, but there are those moments when the magic just sneaks up from behind and catches us by surprise. Those are the moments that I’ve decided to focus on in my stories. Stories of magical people living in the Real World. Sometimes, as is the case with the Trolls, Goblins, Zombies, and Dwarves in Just Another Day in Suburbia, the magical people will be very obvious to everyone around them, and part of the story will be about how everyone learns to play nicely with one another…or not. Other times, as with the Junior Deities in the Olympus High stories, the magical folk will know each other’s real identities, but they’ll all be doing their best to blend in with the rest of us mere mortals.

I hope you enjoy your visits to my version of the Real World… and frequently find yourself at the point where the Real World and the Magical intersect…