Look at this precious honey bee searching from one teensy weed flower to the next, pollen covering his antenna, thorax and even bundles of it wrapped around his wee legs!
I leave you with some chamber music…

drowning at 7 feet sea level
I heard that somewhere, a long time ago. Don’t know that I believe it, though. Here’s my change: a plant I put in the ground at least five years ago decided to sprout and flower. One stalk, now two. Where the devil has it been?
No more unplanted gardens! In another bed more plants that I actually planted are coming up; it’s a bit unnerving.
Why now??
I’m calling my yard a ‘garden’, if that’s alright? K.
Perhaps I need a third crepe to name ‘Love’. A red one!
So, the yard guy doesn’t know that Purple Heart is a valuable member of the garden community. Either of them! I am bereft, but they’re tough little monkeys; I’m sure they’ll be back soon.
She is actually tearing the rock apart. Daisy once ripped a lawnmower to pieces. Tires, rubber thingys that hang down, etc… We thought it was so incredibly cute we let her do it.
That’s who we are; enablers.
I’m currently working in the front. So far I’ve pared a bed of areca palms by half. It’s hot, nasty, ant riddled work, but satisfying. Pictures to follow. Of course.
Unplanted, unwanted, there nonetheless.
I know, I know. It used to be crinum lilies. Always announced the first lily of the year… but of course I’d shoot hundreds of them and soon crinum weariness would set in. Or crinum derangement syndrome. (For me, at least)
Before lilies it was confederate ivy. Quit that when I finally got a good shot of one, but it took years. Sorry. Every bloom delights, thus I must share. Sorry again.