Baby tomatillos! 🌱

At the feeder outside my window a bluebird has brought its fledgling to learn to forage for itself. The kid, perched by a bounty of safflower and peanut, is cheeping from its yellow-bordered maw, while the parent patiently pecks seeds from the bin and puts them in the little mouth.

This kind of thing happens now and again in late spring, and it is one of my favorite sights in all of nature. Because it makes me feel, as a parent, so much less alone.

The new chair is finally ready for paint!

In Which the Poet Fails to Grasp His Meaning

The dry leaf crumbling in the toddler’s fist, The cloud-form wind-rent at the careless naming, The fluttering dream that flees the day’s periphery, The memory-scent long rotted from its root: The lover hard pursued will not be kissed Nor love be raveled out from life’s polyphony; The truth, that beaten dog, is loath to trust us ’Til it lay its head unbidden at our foot. And still with art the cunning mind constructs

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Meanwhile, “Barry’s Crazy” cherry tomato is living up to its name. (I forget the names of flowers, but I have nine varieties of cherry tomatoes so I do try to keep track of those.) 🌱

Can’t remember what this is called, but it’s pretty. 🌱

Currently reading: Black Lamb and Grey Falcon by Rebecca West 📚

Photoblog challenge 5/31. Endurance. Dashiell had to endure another trip to the vet for his ear infection, so I let him take a selfie.

Photoblog challenge 5/30. Fish. There are minnows in there somewhere, but you can only see them when they’re moving. (I walked five miles through this city in search of a koi pond and no dice. It was either this or a can of sardines.)

Photoblog challenge 5/28, a day late. Fair. French curves make it easy to draw a fair curve. Easier, at least.