Can you recall how hot and moist and calm you are after a tortuous sob? Yesterday morning was like that. Perhaps that is why fifteen red efts were out strolling on the edge of the corn field. Perhaps that is why the orchard grass in the shallow grass sea decided to release its pale golden green pollen in small dense clouds as one passed. Or maybe it was to remember my brother who is now planted like a seed in the ground was born that day 51 years ago.
A stiff breeze brought cool, dry air over the night. This morning there were no efts, and little pollen. Though in the background of the blog you can see a slight haze as the wind whips the grass to release whatever pollen is left. Pounce decided to come with Hawthorne and me. He only wished to be carried a few times. And only for a short while. There were fewer dragonflies.
Can you see Pounce? He is all business on walks. Except when he is complaining about being left behind. While I accompanied him (read–he walks slowly) Hawthorne was off running and exploring.
The clouds were playing tag and racing across the fields after each other, dark, light, dark , light. I used to chase them, or run from them, across the hay fields. The corn is up in the last field. The beans in the garden are up. The deciduous peonies are opening.
We walked through the dry grass sea. We made bed nests in it. Really, a mature orchard or timothy grass field is the best place to hide if you do not wish to be found. I used to do it regularly as a child. Still do on occasion.
The perennial and annual poppies are popping. The lupines are out.
abstractions 