JOY ALONG THE WAY: CREATE A PLEASANT AMBIANCE AND THOSE FINE FEATHERED FRIENDS ARRIVE

The old, sweet smelling, profusely blooming, pink rose bush is as good as any seasonal calendar. If there weren't one or more roses in bloom on May Day I would think something in the progression of the seasons was out of whack.

Even before the pink petals emerge, the bush is lovely to look at with its hundreds of perfect buds. They are exactly what rosebuds should look like, in my opinion. They come together at the top and appear to be in a little twist like a Hershey's Chocolate Kiss, bent on keeping the sweetness from spilling out until the light and warmth of the sun reach a certain degree. But spill it will. The pink petals will not be denied. They swell and push the green wrappings until they give way, move backward and downward, appealing to be petals themselves. They still have a mission. They harden a little bit and make a sort of sectional bed for the expanding pink petals to rest upon. By this time the fragrance is released, a fragrance found in the old roses but quite often absent in the newer breeds. And by this time the wrens have come. One could almost think their busy-tizzy songs jarred the roses into bloom.

My rose bush grows tall with graceful arching branches which I have trained up over an archway. I use green yarn. It mingles well, practically unseen, and strong too. This fall, when the leaves are gone, there will still be the green yarn. It will take scissors to remove it.

"Sometimes a cardinal will make her nest in this rose bush," I tell Viney. "What!" she replied. "In amongst all those stickers!" "Yes, amongst the stickers. Maybe she uses them to secure the nest so that it won't get away in a wind storm. And, too, cats don't like to mess with stickery bushes."

So far this season I haven't found where the cardinals are nesting. Maybe the mock orange bush? They like that too. The foliage is so thick and the canes so high they have found it to be a perfect shelter.

The blackbirds, as usual, like to nest in the gutters, especially near the downspout. They never learn. With a long bamboo pole I got out to rattle the gutter and try to help their understanding. I think I need a bunch of dangling fishhooks at the end of the pole.

Bob and Doris are all set for the return of the hummingbirds. Feeders and potted flowers are all in place. A new feeder, suspended from a decorative black iron pole is visible from my porch and "dishwashing" window. That was an act of kindness for them to put that feeder there.

I'm going to major in butterflies again. I cut the butterfly bush back so that it will be more compact. The phlox and purple coneflowers, much loved by the butterflies, are coming along nicely. An article in Birds and Blooms magazine advises the planting of lantanas to encourage the coming of the butterflies. So, in the big, big container where grew the monstrous tomato plant last summer, I'll fill with lantanas. (Don't think I won't have tomato plants elsewhere.)

Plans, plans, plans, how wonderful to make them and watch the potential fulfillment.

REJOICE!

Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime resident of Cape Girardeau.