(the days, that is) than today. Gorgeous blue skies laced with crayon-worthy cumulus, 78 degrees and low humidity, and sun. Wowza.
It was a great afternoon for the first big flower deadheading session, the great sacrifice/gamble for more, better, longer, later. I hope the hummingbirds and bees will forgive me for the evening! Monarda, rudbeckia, white sage, hydrangea, carrot flower, and lysimachia make up this bouquet. What a nose on this grouping, and such a surprisingly austere and somewhat awkward (but beautiful) color scheme-- like something from a coat of arms or a high school mascot.
I just adore these tightly wound rudbeckias, streaked with burgundy and potential. They've got so much more to offer texture-wise than their less nubile selves in another day...
Burt was remarkably game for the photo shoot today... Austerity and sophistication, indeed.
Another, this time with lavender to brighten it up. The bouquet just made itself 25 years younger.
And, on this day of savoring sunshine, who better to turn to than Maurice Manning? So fun to read aloud. From Bucolics.
LXIII
my hay day Boss is every day
the wonder of it never ends
never goes away I never fail
to breathe the sun the summer season
even in the winter even
if the horse's breath is blowing blue
as smoke each time I turn the fork
each time I hear the ring of tines
each time they turn more silver Boss
I taste a long day on my tongue
it's always sweet it's always more
than just a chore I've learned a thing
or two from pitching hay one thing
about the hay it's more than kindling
in the belly of the horse's stove
the second thing beyond the hay
this time about the fork I've made
its handle shiny from my hands
around its throat so shiny now
it's like a mirror Boss it's like
a glass in which I see your face
your burning eye about to wink
---
the Prince of Ham!
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