This iris. The one that was outside. Ended up trampled by two little exuberant four-leggeds. So now, here it sits. Unless something like this happens–I seem contitutionally unable to whack down flowers.
There was a certain amount of interest. Juno from a distance.
Hope…up close and helpful.
There’s a cloth happening here. First Iris.
Braving this end-of-winter-promise-of-spring weather. This mixed bag of weather. I’m removing some of the orange stitches. They seem to hold back the movement. And the moment.
The birds are singing now. And for several days a song has been trapped in my head. Cat Stevens. You know the one?