In fact see very few foxtails so far, and I think it's because I left last years oak leaves lying on that part of the yard where the foxtails usually flourish. The leaf layer appears to discourage foxtails, though may other plants manage to push through it. If this is the case, then I can avoid two jobs each year— raking the leaves each autumn and uprooting the foxtails the next spring. It will make both seasons more enjoyable.
Despite the good soaking the landscape got this morning, I didn't get soaked when I went shopping. The overcast remained until late afternoon, but the clouds are now breaking up. I'll be able to see the moon when it rises, and the night is full of frog music again. There could still be some rain tomorrow, but probably only sprinkles. It's feeling very much like spring now. May it linger into June.
Sunday Verse
Coney Island of the Mind 23
by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Cast up
the heart flops over
gasping "Love"
a foolish fish which tries to draw
its breath from flesh of air
And no one there to hear its death
among the sad bushes
where the world rushes by
in a blather of asphalt and delay.
