Some hours were profitably whiled away this past weekend in the garden, I think more high-tech fly-wired types ought to devote an hour or six thusly, net sanity would benefit. Faunality, you ask? I suggest, by etymological analogy, sexual feelings in a gardening context, mind you this time of year in the Pacific Northwest when the women, mad with sunshine, discard the sweaters and slickers and boots for, well, much less, those feelings are On The Agenda anyhow, but check the magnolia out and see if you think I have a point.
That would be the front walk, and all that colour didn't happen by accident; we have a special relationship with these few square meters.
The Magnolia · Perhaps overly photographed in this space, this tree has almost unnatural beauty in the curve of its branches, then in its shocking bordello-tinged early spring colours, and now in early summer achieves a climax of blooms nestled in green nestled in green nestled in green. Pacific Northwest, dig it baby.
· · ·
· · ·
The back yard has a cedar fence, on which enshadowed tulips:
