Mammoth Sunflowers

I finally spotted a squirrel enjoying the long-awaited sunflower seeds. Squirrel-watching is quite entertaining.

Sunflower seeds are like chocolate for squirrels. To my amazement, ‘Mammoth Sunflowers’ self-seeded in January. That’s never happened before, or if a seedling should arrive out of season, it perishes post haste.

By March, the sweet peas took off, quickly surrounding the lower half of the remaining sunflower stalks, so I left them in place to dry. The thick stems of the sunflowers made excellent stakes for the climbing sweet peas.

I wondered aloud to Mike if the sweet peas’ soft scent overwhelmed the subtler smell of the sunflower seeds since they don’t generally get this far along without a squirrel or two snapping off the seed heads.

This week, they figured it out.

I happened upon a squirrel at the top of the eight-foot stalk, and then I ran inside to get my camera phone. I tiptoed down the path and tried to hide behind a tree, but the squirrel was on to me. I got a couple of snaps as the squirrel climbed down.

At the same time, another squirrel rustled in the Magnolia tree overhead. I looked up expecting a bird, but a squirrel appeared, carefully camouflaged against the trunk, hanging upside down while munching away.

I managed four photos in all before they moved on.

Not for the first time, I have renewed appreciation for nature photographers who capture clear, crisp, gorgeous images of wildlife. It’s fun to capture snapshots, though, and its nice to know they can find food, water, and sanctuary in my garden.

We watched the much-anticipated Barbie movie this weekend, directed by Greta Gerwig and starring Margot Robbie. The film is fast, fun, feminist, and empowering. It’s a feast for the senses, with gorgeous sets and costumes, fun dance numbers, wink-wink satire, and a beautiful message for all. Gerwig wrote and directed the film, and Robbie is one of the producers. Dame Helen Mirren narrates.

The critics consensus on Rotten Tomatoes: “Barbie is a visually dazzling comedy whose meta humor is smartly complemented by subversive storytelling.”

Outside the theater, life-sized photo booths designed to look like a boxed Barbie added to the fun. I couldn’t resist.

Sunday morning, we ventured out to buy corn, peaches, apricots, and tomatoes at the last working orchard in San Jose. I chatted briefly with Mr. Cosentino, letting him know we appreciated his small farm stand, lovingly nurtured since 1945. It’s a gem, and so is he.

As we returned to the car, I asked Mike to snap this photo of me with a towering sunflower. For perspective, I’m 5’10” or 178 cm. This plant is by far the tallest sunflower I’ve seen. Given its proximity to the orchard, I imagine a squirrel planted and forgot about the seeds. This house has no garden to speak of, just a pair of majestic sunflowers.

Back in our garden, neighborhood squirrels continue to munch on Acer seeds, showing their agility as they move from branch to branch. They drink water from the fountain outside the window before bounding up the side of the tree.

It felt like an old-fashioned summer seeing a movie in a packed theater for the first time in three years, visiting the farm stand, and staying up too late on a warm Saturday night. I’m dreaming of a few more weekends just like it.