garden, covid-19

Last night i walked to the mailbox in the deep dusk, wearing my headlamp. The crimson clover stood out in the light, a paler green than the plants surrounding it and blazing with the glitter from raindrops accumulated on the one side of the leaves. The glitter was stunning, almost iridescent, as if leprechauns had redecorated in the dark. If i took of the headlamp the glitter disappeared, leaving mundane clover. Back on, jeweled leaves glowed.

On my way back -- no thermometer delivered -- i checked a few more plants out. The Robin's plantain - not a plantain at all but a soft pale purple aster-like plant -- was hard for me to find. I realized i was used to it's downy leaves appearing more light than the surrounding plants, but in the headlamp it was dark leaved.

What a change in perspective -- is this what everything looks like to the sun?

COVID-19 thoughts from Monday
* you know it's an addiction when the thought of not having tea is a little panic causing. But the plants gonnna grow, and some one will pick it, right? My yaupon holly is far to small to be of interest. Maybe this year it will put on significant growth.

Dad and i had a good chat - he's still blue but i think if i can give him a conversational outlet it will help. We had a Zoom gathering with drinks with friends from north of Raleigh, pleasant. One of the friends works in yarn stores and described desperation yarn shoppers: i am a little surprised that there are folks without unfinished projects and stashes to work through.

Generally, it is an alien thought that there are people without a backlog of SOMETHING to do. Just going through my backlog is in my backlog.