Friday's postcard, and a mid-summer floral foray

July 14

Jul 14, 2023

Red-winged blackbird, keeping an eye on me….

From the scabland bouquet…

Not that I have standing to complain, but it all goes by so fast—the parade of wildflowers that begins in March with snow on the buttercups and grass widows, to the July sunshine withering the showy milkweed. It’s not quite over yet. There is still tansy and yarrow and two kinds of Morning Glory growing in the shade of pines and hawthorn where I park my bike most afternoons.

If I hike further into the scablands it’s possible that one or more Green-banded Mariposa Lilly will appear, like goblins popping out of a closet, to register an exception to the rule that every beautiful thing withers in the heat. Of course, if I had an excuse to head into the mountains, I would find beargrass and paintbrush and avalanche lillies. Rabbitbrush will blossom in the fall. No hurry, I can wait.

In the meantime, some personal favorites from the annual parade…