You think you see snowball flowers, and you do.
From June 23, 2012
What you might not see is the dog who sees you from behind those flowers and leaves.
From June 23, 2012
This was uncharted territory for Clyde, who is usually on his leash at my parents'. This is because he used to have an unsettling predilection for finding escape hatches along the fence. Restoring Clyde to the end of his leash is a nightmare once he's found his freedom--and the neighbor's horse, and the squirrels taunting him from the Japanese maples, and the chipmunk who shares the same coloration. Freedom is as beguiling as it is frightening to the onlookers who can't always catch up on their much longer two legs. So Clyde has not been off leash at my parents' for a long time. A little older and wiser, he enjoyed himself and the thrills of being the kind of the pachysandra, of bouncing past the garden gnomes, of rolling in the grass.
From June 23, 2012
From June 23, 2012
On the way home, Clyde was so soundly asleep, he didn't notice we stopped to photograph this grafittoed street sign:
From June 23, 2012
What a hidden drive has to do with people crossing, I don't know, but if you're going to have to face these yellow non sequiturs on a regular basis, why not throw in a cello? Perhaps some day a cello-bearing pedestrian will emerge from a hidden drive. I hope my batteries will be charged when the day comes.