I had a huge post planned about life, the universe, and turning thirty, but then it became too big to hold in my head and it certainly wasn't getting onto here. Instead, you get some random things I have noticed outside recently.
There is a hedge on my walk home that is full of snakes. I'm not very good at spotting them before they spot me, but I'm up to six or seven garter snakes a day. Gorgeous, stripey, just sitting there in the sun, and then they streak out of sight in a way that completely fails to suggest motion. I love this. I want a hedge full of snakes.
This led me to looking up hedges (again) and to the Great Hedge of India, which seems to be a particularly British situation. "Hey, the people we're colonizing are resisting imperialism with black market salt! We shall defeat them... with a HEDGE!" And yet.
Also notable are the dead grackle lying there on the sidewalk with its oilslick feathers gleaming, the Cooper's or sharp-shinned hawk near Twain, and garlic mustard in my own and other front yards. This is not okay, people. I can now identify garlic mustard and I want to go through the woods with a Hefty bag full of something sticky so the seeds don't escape.
I have only twice in my life been able to identify poison ivy, and by 'identify' I mean 'tell which plant my companion is pointing to saying, "Poison ivy looks like this."'
Mushroom hunting might end badly, yes. I don't know if I even like morels. I certainly haven't found any.
This evening, I went outside at exactly the perfect time. I walked to HyVee as the storm had passed, as the clouds to the east were an even, featureless slate gray and the west had gleaming silver. By the time I reached the store, the sun was out, the shadows were sharp, and the trees-- bright, perfect spring green leaves well lit by the sun with dire evening sky behind. I wish I could capture those colors together. It was amazing.
Then there was a rainbow on the way back. Not a big one, but still.
Now the mugginess has broken-- I'm not looking forward to summer heat and humidity, no. But this breezy cleansed air is lovely. If only every day could be the night after a storm.