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rejectomorph

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Scented Night [May. 15th, 2003|05:58 am]
rejectomorph
The bush by the front door is blooming, and the blossoms smell very much like the honeysuckle that grew by the side of the road on which I used to walk home from elementary school. I have no idea what kind of bush it is, but every spring, the scent of it reminds me of that vine spilling down the side of the cliff, where we would stand and pluck the flowers, and pull the stem out the bottom, and find at the end of it a small, bright, clear drop of sweet nectar. Passing motorists would blow their horns at us, as the road was very narrow, and the honeysuckle grew on the inside of a blind curve. We probably annoyed the drivers no end, but didn't care. Every day in spring, we would stand by the roadside for several minutes, plucking flowers and sucking the nectar, like giant bees in blue jeans and flannel shirts.

Tonight, a few clouds drifted over the setting moon, so low that they looked like smoke rising from a fire. The air smelled of fog, but the fog never materialized. Now birds are chirping in the gray light, and I hear larger waterfowl calling as they fly somewhere behind the screen of pines. It will be hotter today. I think it will be a good evening for the eclipse.

I got back the pictures I took a few weeks ago, and I will be posting a few of them over the next few days, if Sluggo will remain stable long enough for me to upload them to Picture Trail. The first one is a view of an arroyo that leads down into Butte Creek Canyon, with the ridge where the main highway to Chico runs beyond it. It was a hazy day, so everything looks a bit vague. I hope to get back to that neighborhood someday when it is clear. I'm putting the picture behind a cut, as usual, as it is 900 pixels wide.



Hazy Afternoon

Lookout Point on The Skyway from Valley Ridge



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Comments:
[User Picture]From: marseille
2003-05-15 02:11 pm (UTC)

un-oh, you stirred up more memories

We used to do the same thing with phlox blossoms, it's a wonder we weren't all poisoned.
We also had grapevine hanging from trees, from which we were forbidden to swing...
And huge rocks, left by some glacier.
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