Clear and dry under a warm, friendly sun. I went to take a couple of pictures of plants I had seen over the past few days. The jack-in-the-pulpit was at the park where we found the morel, in a tiny but unusually rich grove of native plants.
The columbine I found, a spot of red in a sea of green, as we rode by on our bikes. I was so focused on getting a picture of the flower that I didn’t notice the beautiful patch of poison ivy all around me until I stood up to walk back to the car.
Back at home on a holiday weekend we enjoyed the perfect quiet of midafternoon. The birds were resting, and the frogs, too. The people, with all their noise, were gone for the weekend. Where they have to go – why they have to leave such a peaceful place – is beyond me.