The aloe is blooming in the drizzle.
The ash magnolia has opened to fullness. I wish you could smell its heavenly lemon scent.
The confederate jasmine is starting to put out its flowers and soon its scent will be overwhelmingly powerful. I think the scent when it is in full bloom might best be described as what a whorehouse in heaven might smell like.
Mulberries! I hope the birds don't get all of them. They will grow redder and then purple. The taste of them hurtles me back to childhood.
The peas we planted this year have these pink and purple blooms. I wonder what it is, exactly, that we have growing. We shall see soon enough.
The beans are coming along
while the mustard greens bolt, going to seed. I have actually picked some of the yellow flowers to put in a vase in the kitchen. Oh, how I hate to pull these greens and yet, I must to make room for other things.
Two duck eggs. One Chi-Cha egg.
Mick tidbitting for the girls. They take his offerings now which makes me happy and also a little sad. He is really coming along as a rooster. He watches the flock carefully all day and his insane hotblooded need to fuck seems to have cooled quite a bit as he takes his responsibilities seriously. He even stood his ground with Greta the other day although thankfully, she only wanted to play. Chickens do not seem to play. Not in the sense that dogs and even cats, at times, do. So why is it that they make my heart feel so much lighter?
I do not know.
Trixie's song, Mick's throaty tidbit call. Hog dogs in the background.
They are quiet now.