I suppose the rain this morning (and all night) is good; however, I had the car washed two days ago. Just back from taking Emily to work for the morning, and I chose not to take the outside steps and get a little too wet.
I did step out to take a picture of the colchium that I mention often. My dad's "air blooming lilies" that actually are fall blooming crocus. These are the progeny of the three bulbs he purchased in 1945, for ten percent of one week's pay. Obviously his children heard the story over and over.
In two sweltering evenings last summer Hamilton dug up more than four hundred bulbs from their two by three foot confine; Emily, Laura and I cleaned off the clay and stored them in one, two, three buckets. It was so hot and the gnats so bad, I believe it was the only night we were testy.
Back on the porch with the camera, there the little guys are. Laura and I planted probably two hundred. We bagged the rest, ten to a bag, and gave them away. I hope all those folks are enjoying their blue haze surprise.
When she was senseless with finding places to dig crocus holes, Laura went down the sidewalk. Next year there may be a crowd, a host--of crocus. Surely by the year after.
The cheeky chickadee. There are several. He may be thinking I should go in out of the rain, and dry off the telephoto lens before I put away the camera.
Or, he doesn't care what I do.