Two very different treatments of this hesperaloe, who was a little redder in the late afternoon light. This year I'm going to collect their seeds and start a whole shitload of these suckers in the spring.
The palo verde gets all splendid right about now, every year. Bees seem to like it, too.
And I can't resist the Bird of Paradise blossoms: showy, almost over-the-top, but all over the place, too, always catching the light a little differently than they were a moment ago.
The desert willow reminds me of Klay Thompson, just doing his job, quieter than Draymond and not quite so obviously special as Stephen, but then you look up and realize he's performing beautifully, and consistently, in the background. Guess these two treatments aren't that much different, though. (Maybe I need to add in one that's more abstract.) But the desert willow seems a vastly underrated tree for where we are.
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| This, maybe? |
But eventually it's time to find a glass of wine and commune with the moon or something. Or just watch the daylight fade, without really watching, letting the night sounds mix with memories and half-formed thoughts, or share a laugh. It'll never be just this moment again, even if you take a photograph.
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