The bees inch ever closer to the window with their comb. I have yet to determine the ideal way to photograph them through the glass, but my experiments are yielding some pleasing results.
A dead bee on the door floor this morning. No doubt she died a hero. Another bee died later when Stellar bounded his big hound face too close to the door. Oooh! He ran and rubbed his face in the gravel, but he didn’t swell up.
Blue mist spirea “Worcester Gold” with Missouri evening primrose, which opens bright yellow at dusk, and withers to orange the next morning. Ephemeral yet lasting beauty.
Meadow rue in bloom.
More bindweed mimicry! Here they’re forming ground-hugging rosettes like the lettuces.
Planted annuals and self-sown perennials at the northeast end of the onion/carrot bed.
This leek was left til morning when I harvested last night, so Mothra could hang out.