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Bodacious weather heading our way. It was 85 degrees yesterday, and violent storms are the only way to lower the temps down to the frosts forecast for the weekend. The yard is lush with wildflowers, I hate to see them killed off.
There is a patch of yellow flowers out front, blue foxgloves are sprinkled all over the place ( I rue that I don't know the names of the wildflowers--I think they're foxglove). Rose of Sharon or Cherokee Rose, whatever they are, (they have year round glossy green leaves and thorns on a climbing vine) are beginning to bloom, their white flowers and tendrils have covered bushes, draped over them to form a mass that sweeps around the side of the house and the vines climb into the trees.
There are millions of teeny white, blue, and yellow flowers covering the yard, some larger white ones look like Queen Ann's lace. There is ONE large dandelion growing by the carport--let it grow, no harm done. I never get the grass cut until all the wildflowers have had a chance to bloom and leave seed for next year.
What pleasure it is to sit in the swing and listen to the birds singing and hear the cheeps of tiny newly hatched birds, to hear the tinkle of wind chimes, to see the tender budding green of the trees, to feel the breeze, to look up at the sky so blue, scudding with whipped cream clouds--this is soul food.
