Wildflowers

I've never been very good at capturing meadows full of wildflowers and this entry is no exception, but I liked the California poppies scattered amongst the lupin, vetch and the buttercups. There will be more poppies to come for they are particularly glorious this year, springing up in huge clumps on roadsides, in vineyards and front gardens everywhere.

It is also a celebration of the fact that despite the fact that my knee still didn't feel great this morning, I decided I was fed up with sitting around the house when the weather is so beautiful. Figuring that the sitting around approach wasn't working, I might as well attempt the hilly Spike walk with John this morning. Walking at a careful snail's pace, I persisted cautiously up the first hill as John and Spike disappeared from view ahead of me. It may have been jumping from the frying pan to the fire, but it was wonderful to be admiring the wildflowers and by the time we all got back to the car my knee was feeling pretty good. Sometimes we just have to take things into our own hands (or legs)...

We had the full complement at Trail House for coffee this morning. Tobi, the Master Gardener, had a very successful plant sale last weekend and she and Dan will have more free time now. Gail had to leave early to meet the window washer at their house, but Bob was in good form, regaling us with stories from what I can only refer to as "Bob's world". Maggie was late, and looked tired as she's filling in for several vacationing teachers at the Pilates studio.

On the way out, I stopped to talk to the man in extras who is always at Trail House, his sketch pads and felt pens spread around him as he worked on drawings of Santa Rosa buildings. He comes on his bike and looks a wee bit rough around the edges, but is certainly more serious about honing his drawing skills than I am, having done nothing but talking about getting back into it for months. I could have talked to him for longer, but John, having little use for small talk had disappeared out the door. I'm sure this man who told me his name was Mark will be back next time we go in.

It is now warm enough to sit on the porch with a glass of wine...so preferable to sitting in front of the news...