Come with me on a walk in the pasture...

 "I'm going for a walk," I holler the words into the air hoping they reach my husband's ears.  I pick up my walking sticks and head toward the pasture.  Oh, hey, I didn't see yall there!  How would you like to come with me?  I'll run inside and grab my camera.  First, let's stop in the yard to see how the young peaches are coming along.

Looking pretty good, I'd say.  Can you see the little fuzz covering the outside?  

Oh look, there on the fence!  The traveling pink roses are still lovely, even with the heavy rains we had last night. 
 And such a lovely fragrance too.

 Okay, come along to the back, past the Chicken Condo, through the pasture gate.  We turn toward the west and are greeted by the amazingly strong, sweet scent of white honeysuckle just beginning to open along the pasture fence. 

Can't you just smell it?  I breathe in the memories as the sweetness floods my senses.  I'm suddenly romping through the woods, stopping with my little friends to steal one of the sweet blossoms, sucking in the sweet honey-nectar.  Then I suddenly see my three small children running into the kitchen, proudly presenting me with bouquets of the sweet-smelling blossoms. 

Let's continue, WATCH OUT!  Oops!  I didn't mean to shout!  Just be careful of the thistles! 

Rather unusual flowers, and somewhat pretty, but mercy, are they wicked!  I stepped on one once and the thing grabbed a-hold of my foot, and a thorn went right through the side of my tenny (I don't play tennis) shoe!  Put a powerful hurt on my foot! 

Just walk around them.  Come over here and take a peek at our neighbor's pond.  Hey looky there!  So that's where my husband got off to! 

(Actually, I took the pond pictures on Saturday...just couldn't resist stickin' them in.  After all, my daughter and granddaughters are perttier than any flower I know).

Let's turn south and walk along the west fenceline.  I wanna show you something.  There...look up...see that wild blackberry rose?  'Least that's what I call it.  

                   I read somewhere that the rose is akin to the blackberry, some second cousin or something or other.  This very fragrant rose "tree" is huge!  The blossoms are about the same size as blackberry flowers, only in clusters like roses.  Has little thorns like roses too, but not as sharp I don't think.  Any of yall know what it's called?  Would love to know for sure.  At any rate, it smells wonderful. 

Oh gracious me, there's my neighbors to the west.  Let me introduce you.  The gal on the right is Rocky. 
Blue is on the left.  Jumper isn't there.  He must be in the other pasture.  He was rescued from some pretty bad conditions, but he's real happy in his new home.

Walk with me to the back of the pasture.

Here we smell the sudden woodsy scent of "tea" tannin in the weathered oak leaves.  Smells like a cross between Momma's soothing sweet tea and a freshly sharpened pencil.  

Okay, lets turn east and walk along the back, up a little ridge and around an unruly group of shrubs.  Oh my, there in the middle of the brush...more wild roses and honeysuckle, all playing together like they wuz friends!  I think I'll take a few honeysuckle sprigs to freshen up the house.
Glory be, it's getting near supper time.  We better head back.  Let's head north along the east fenceline.  I want to give you a little preview of a coming attraction.  I didn't get a very good picture...too close up I think, but you can see the little blurred buds if you look closely.

This is a true wild rose, but it doesn't open it's pink blossoms until May.  I call it my rose from the Lord  because I didn't plant it; He must have been in charge of that.  It runs along the east fence dancing in and out among the bushes wearing clusters of light to deep rose pinks.  How it loves to put on a show!  You must come back on opening day.   

My, here we are back at the beginning.  Say, look at those blackberry vines!  Speaking of May, that's when these fellas really shine.  Can't wait to make some of that blackberry jelly. 

Well, actually these are Dewberries, not Blackberries, a distinction my dad was always adamant about making.  I don't really care what you call them;  they sure make good jelly!

One more stop before yall leave.  I just have to show you my red rose.  Sittin' there next to the patio, she seems pretty happy.  She's a looker too, ain't she? 

Before yall go, come on in the house and have some ice cold sweet tea, won't ya? 

Thanks for visiting!  I hope you enjoyed your stay. 
Yall come back now, ya hear?