It is Amungus

The rains are gentle or heavy or windy or calm, but in every single case, they are frequent and persistent. How long can we hang on? It means I am not dragging a hose across the lawn to the herb bed. It means I have to fertilize my potted plants again as their soil has been soaked and drained of nutrition. I am amazed that my pots of geraniums against the railings of my deck are still alive as they prefer the sunnier drier climate of California. Have you seen how big geranium blossoms get there? Have you seen how big every flower gets there??  We have had so much constant rain that the trimming of geraniums that I did a few days ago to get the pots to bush more have not died.  These are clippings which I threw over the deck railing to the lawn below and are still blooming and looking as if they are air plants as I gaze down on them from my perch above as they lie on the lawn below. 

The woods are pulsing like some great, green giant flexing its scales on either side of my house and threatening to smother me from the sun if take one misstep.  Birds can completely hide in the camouflage and all I hear is their disembodied song as if coming from a foreign land.  The new fawn and her mother are almost ghosts as they dart between deep shade and deeper shade.

My walk to the dock takes me by these exotic emergents, some already sampled for flavor by that annoying squirrel.

I remain the small player in this season of growth.