Muddy road, muddy shoes, muddy girls

It seemed as if it had rained again, but this was only the remainder (reminder?) of the thunderstorm of two nights ago. The air was cool and damp, the dew heavy on everything. Clouds hid the sun to the east while the moon, no longer full watched over my shoulder.

Banana man (with an orange today) greeted us and we heard DeWayne’s training whistle from the back of the park. With this many folks around we could wander the dirt road to the far meadow – not quite fearlessly, but...

It is too late for deer. We knew it by the time, if not by the noise. The presence of Sissy and DeWayne’s trainees, a load of labs, insured it. The deer could smell them even without a breeze.

We could tell we just missed a few deer – hoof prints in the muddy ground. But only two or three deer passed here - not the herd. We left more than our prints as we slipped and slid in the mud…then slung mud, kicked up behind us, as we walked along.

The goal today was to make some distance (most of the week’s earlier walks were too short – because of time or weather or weariness) and to plan seed saving for the next few weeks. The coneflowers, gaillardia, mint and other wildflowers had been the objects of my desire, but visions of the wafer elm haunt me.

Cedar elms are well represented in my yard (and I regularly battle volunteers).  But the wafer elm is lovely – the foliage and the flowers/seeds. And propagation should be a simple challenge…stick

some cuttings in the dirt and see what happen - plant some seeds and try to remember to keep them watered. But I could not remember exactly where they stood in the woods and, while Paddy might want to wander among the brambles, I will not risk snakebite or worse. Fortunately we find a small exemplar along the road.  A stake will do as a reminder for seeds soon and cuttings later.

The dew dripped from cedar and mesquite and tall grasses. It weighted down the tips of limbs and seed heads…bowing the solo sunflower just blooming among the dry grasses and few wildflowers refusing to give up their spring bloom.

A lichen covered limb had fallen in the night – beautiful.

Ghostly music drifted in from the waterpark.

We plodded along taking photos and mental note of this wet and shiny, dirty and stunning morning.

Friends honked and waved as we made our way home.