Cottonwood trees make me think of James Michener’s Centennial — something to indicate where the creeks are on the vast prairie. Here, though, they are common yard trees, and they do seem to enjoy the environment. I tried to capture the falling cottonwood “snow,” but this is the best I could do. It fell thickly enough that you could not avoid inhaling it outdoors today, as the curbside drifts indicate. I recall cottonwood clogging the pool filter around the Fourth of July — is it the generous spring rains or global warming that brought on the snowfall so early this year?
Update on the porch lamp robin’s nest: at least three babies survived. Perhaps the eggshell below the nest was just from hatching and not a sign of a premature end. They are long since fledged and have dispersed to feast on my unripe Bing cherries. It is once again safe to use my front door.
The giant bumblebee is busy in the wickedly thorny but delightfully clove-scented rose. As honeybees die off everywhere, thank goodness the bumblebees continue to thrive.
For someone who does not like pink, I sure seem to have a lot of it in my yard. I could show you the clematis, the roses, and the peony, but let’s settle for the lemon thyme, with Tiny Monster geranium in foreground counterpoint. They aren't the colors I’d prefer but are beautiful nevertheless. The turtle is not real but still seems to enjoy sunning himself on a poolside rock. Once the cottonwood storm abates, I’ll have to wrestle the cover off that pool one last time. The steps are cracked — it’s time I ripped it out and filled in the hole before the toddler next door and his newborn sister discover the “attractive nuisance.”