hypnotic onions

you are feeling very, very sleepy. don’t fight it. stare into the onions. your eyes want to close. don’t fight them. they want to close. close your eyes. close your eyes. close your . . .

red onion

pastis

the region in france where we spend most of our time is near the mediterranean, where wild fennel grows like weeds along the side of the road in summer. on hot days, men at cafes order pastis, and the air above their tables smells like anise and fennel. that’s how our kitchen smelled as we sliced this fennel root today. the aroma lasted all day, sweet and mild, and transporting.

fennel

thought clouds

these red peppers turned into a collection of little thought clouds. i would fill mine with the following thoughts, “where will i take still blog next?” “don’t forget the credit card bill is due in a week.” “fifty percent chance of rain tonight close the windows.” “first jewelweed just bloomed in the cattails.” “i wonder if joe will start school with distance learning.” “check the plant press for still blog inspo.” “why so many fruit flies this year?” “what should i read after zadie smith?” “there’s that bird again. didn’t we decide it was a yellow-bellied flycatcher?” “omg clean sheets tonight can’t wait.”

red pepper slices

red licorice rope

i have been deep inside my food photos lately, and today i expected to take a break when I found this beautiful virginia creeper vine tendril on a walk with my friend. but then i photographed it and realized that i had just photographed one of my favorite foods in the world, cherry flavored licorice rope. is your mouth watering yet? because mine is.

(unidentified) vine tendril in summer

agates

the concentric rings of these leek slices remind me of the banding on lake superior agates. this would have been an epic beachcombing haul.

leeks (Allium ampeloprasum)