In the garden: After the cold snap
Here's my desk with a paperweight:
I left the desk out last year, and the cheesy particle board or whatever top began to rot, and so it attracted wasps seeking cellulose to build their nests; I could hear them chewing away! So, that is a novel strategy for pollinator attraction, and I'm anxious to see if it works in the coming year.
Here is an elephant's eye in the raspberry patch.
And dead snow in the raspberry patch. Snow, as it melts, seems to have a structure that gets coarser and coarser. I'm not sure why that is.
And forsythia, blooming in November. Once the blossoms have been touched by frost, as now, the iPad can pick them up; until -- "until" in my mind, but not perhaps in the mind of the forsythia, which seems to be making a sort of Pascal's wager that this year winter will not come -- frost comes, their bright yellow blows out the lens, so badly the software can't even focus on them, but will focus anywhere else: Twigs, buds, branches, the background. There's a metaphor here, but I'm not quite sure what it might be.