The Easter chicks have landed!
The fireplace mantel in our family room is never bare. It’s long, it’s plain old white, it’s just begging to be dressed up with a collection of something.
For Easter season, some of my pottery bird planters (plus a stray bunny friend) have come to visit. They’re all in cheerful Lu-Ray colors.
On one side, a big bluebird, a tiny chick, a green duckling, and that party-crashing rabbit.
On the other side, more noisy ducklings and an exuberant yellow songbird!
None of the critters are marked, except for the fat bluebird—he’s stamped “USA.”
Some of them might be McCoy, or Shawnee, or some other American pottery. I don’t really care. I collect them for their charming shapes, not for their brand names.
What I really love about this vintage pottery is their soft glazes. The way that the clay of the high-relief bits shows through the translucent glazes is so pretty.
Isn’t it funny that something so small can make me so happy?