May 15
I am "being here now": looking at the world, seeing what it is saying today.
I wonder about these trees. Are they normally late to leaf, or are they dead? Or just not well and so leafing later.
This groundhog was on the road when I drove out yesterday. He did not go far up the tree, but waited to see what I would do. I was able to take a couple of pictures and then I thanked him and left him before he felt the need to run away.
This tree coupling is not uncommon. I have seen several such younger trees embracing an older tree, as if borrowing from its strength.
These two are growing by the car, at least the car spot is next to where they are.
Violets:
Azure bluets, I realize the name is a redundancy.
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top shelf. if you get it, you get it.
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I have not noticed before how golden the dandelions can be.
I am sure that it will rain today, although the weather stations are saying tomorrow noon.
Bumblebee:
We noticed that the dandelions grow in a swath across our lawn. Is it the way the seeds are blown? The suburbs are at war with the dandelion, although they must lose in the end or we will poison the world. But I have long thought that if left to themselves they would soon become self-regulated. (Why is it not permissible to begin a sentence with "but"? I want to do it often, but stop myself, except in this instance.) They, back to the dandelions, are self-regulated here. The plants share the environment and grow in patches most favorable to their needs, just small clusters. The strawberries are perhaps the most widespread in our hillside microbiome. And though they flower prolifically, we see never a berry. The moment that they are red the small herbivores of the field eat them, mouse, groundhog, raccoon.
Rain mentioned that this mirror was one of her favorites. I brought it for her, and unwrapped, I have not seen it for several years. I had forgotten how lovely it really is. Unchipped roses, and the golds and yellow. It was made when our bathroom was the old black and yellow of the fifties, beautiful, really, but in need of work.
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Today's wheat berry porridge:
This, from the opening of the movie, Casablanca:
It didn't rain.
Mumma Yaga
It is delightful that my grandchild, Rain's little fox, took to me from the first day that we were back here, as if he could tell I was family, that I loved him, or he took his cue from Rain, who seemed to love me. He is tall, and talking a lot already.
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