A mighty thunder and lighting storm rolled in last night. The sudden darkness was spectacular for its drama as it came across from the Catskills. I was out picking a few Daffodils trying to grab those beauties before I was struck dead. Those blooms smile at me now right above the sink with a single white Geranium. The Westside Highway shot from last week gives the urban version of rain from the train, but it is far less thrilling than the experience up here.
The rains are welcome now and good for all things growing. I have two climbing roses ready to be set in and various seeds started for the back garden. It looks like a Fox may be living under the foundation of the house and I hope to see kits soon if I’m right.
I’m thinking a lot about the abundance of empty decorative painting and what it means particularly now, and finishing the book on Hillary’s campaign disaster.
More soon on all of these.