it rained today. i repeat, it rained today.  it did not snow. it rained.  actually, that’s an exaggeration, it rained most of the day, then the rain turned into snow for a hour as the sun set, because it is march and our expectations must be kept in check. anyway, the receding snow and the soaking rain revealed a shag carpet of saturated colors.  among them, these goldenrod stems whose bright orange color seemed completely out of place against the late winter backdrop.

goldenrod stems newly revealed by the melting snow

rice creek regional trail, saint paul, minnesota

i tried to walk the dog today. our usual walk. we got about a third of the way in and he stopped in his tracks, refusing to go any farther. when i suggested we keep walking, he reared up on his hind legs and banged me with his two front paws and then wheeled and bee-lined it back to the car.  apparently it was too cold for little lord fauntleroy. or perhaps a bit too windy. i thought of the constant prevailing wind that had shaped this sapling, exposed all winter in an open prairie, and i felt very little sympathy for my pampered puggle.

windswept sapling

rice creek regional trial, saint paul, minnesota

i like the theory that the eye spots on the rear wings of the polyphemus moth resemble the face of a great horned owl, thus startling and repelling predators. i can see it. the yellow iris and the black eye ring, staring at you. like a scarecrow in a field. like a monster costume on halloween.

polyphemus moth wings

found in our driveway last summer, saint paul,  minnesota

joseph is 10 years old and he is surrounded on one side by a lake and cattail bed and on the other by our neighbors’ 30 acres of open hardwoods. sometimes joseph is unproductively dreamy, as we recently heard from his piano teacher. sometimes he is productively dreamy, like right now, sitting across the table from me, drawing everything he can think of, and drawing it in perspective–the aftermath of a particularly fruitful lesson from a favorite teacher in art class this week. this afternoon, dreamy joseph disappeared into the snow for a while, in stocking cap, jacket, snow pants, and sorel boots. he was gone a long time. i would catch glimpses of him, swinging sticks, jumping off of snow banks, or just drifting through the woods on crusted snow. unproductive? even if he hadn’t come back with a barred owl feather snared by a twig, i wouldn’t call his afternoon unproductive.

limb snagged owl feather (probably barred owl)

saint paul, minnesota

a good friend used to buy a bulb garden for her grandmother every spring. it became a bond and a tradition. after her grandmother passed away, her husband began buying her a bulb garden every spring, in memory of her grandmother. you married extremely well, i told her. well, she said, i did coach him. so he buys you a bulb garden every spring in memory of your grandmother and in addition to that, he’s coachable? you married extremely well, i told her.

hyacinth, daffodil, tulip, grape hyacinth

spent greenhouse bulb garden