Art Shapiro came strolling through the garden today while I was working up a bed for lettuce and mustard greens. “Good day to do the work,” he said, matter-of-factly, “and we should have rain by the weekend.”
“That’s a’good news for the plants,” I stammered, sweat-soaked, apparently pretending to be Italian.
A few moments later an enormous red-tail—well a low-flying one at least—appeared overhead. She wheeled once, and continued south, ruddering with her ruddy rectrices. I thought of Epidexipteryx, but only for a moment. A buckeye danced about the garden. Following or fleeing Art? I couldn’t tell.
On the way back I saw a flicker on a telephone pole, a seasonal first for me, I think. Later, I found this weevil on my arm. Hypera postica I guess? Canadians already celebrated their National Weevil Day, but ours doesn’t come until the 27th of November, which seems kind of late, but you know: Puritans…go figure.
Later still, I gave myself a haircut and an unintentional rat-tail which Jessica mended when she returned from Point Reyes.
Blogging is awesome. I’m going to bed.