Corn. The fields around us take on a very different aspect at this time of year.
Somewhat to our surprise, recently, we discovered that we too had grown corn…in what passes for our “lawn”.
Before we could consider what we might do with a single cornstalk, the BRUTES with their awful mowing machines arrived and shredded it.
We have never exchanged a single word, nor even a single look, but it was as though yesterday, they were making a passive-aggressive gesture of some sort, leaving ridges of un-mown grass and riding their mowers so that the blowers plastered the house.
Spider was quite put out.
Grant, who seldom notices such things was muttering crossly about it this morning.
They had even knocked over a piece of wall and bashed the edge of our terribly tasteful and expensive flower bed:
Put together from discarded planks of wood.
“Perhaps you should talk to Bob.”, I said.
But one hesitates to complain…
Perhaps Grant himself was feeling aggressive this morning.
When I pointed out these new flowers he said, darkly:
“That’s that grapevine thing. It will have to go!”
All right then!
He’s right, but I can’t pull it down while it looks so pretty and while the bees are enjoying it.
Hopefully I won’t have to tug too hard when the time comes. It’s a very determined vine.
The garden has turned orange this summer.
Orange and white, at least.
Doesn’t it figure that the seeds which grew most successfully were the ones I scattered hither and thither down the bank where I removed a dead bush.
So one has to stand in the right place and extend one’s neck in order to appreciate the flowers.
As far as I know these are wallflowers.
Also down the bank, “dove pincushions”, an exception to the all-orange decree.
But it seems to me in general, the world has taken on an orange hue.
Perhaps it’s just an August thing.