The sky looked like this in Petaluma on Thursday.
Today, at home, it is gray and blue and white.
Saturday afternoon and Marty is sleeping in my bed. I am eating a vanilla/caramel ice cream cone and wondering why my computer’s speed has been set to “molasses.”
Twice this semester I have spotted this unusual fungus growing near a maple tree on a mulched bank that covers a bridge over the canal that runs through campus. Now I have photographed it and googled it. It is so strange, I wasn’t even sure it was a living thing ’til I looked it up:
Friends, meet Clathrus ruber, aka latticed stinkhorn, the basket stinkhorn, or the red cage. But don’t stand too close. He stands accused of smelling like rotting meat, hence his fly friends.
Read all about him here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clathrus_ruber
Speaking of ruber, I mean rubber, and baskets, turns out the guys down at my favorite tire shop have studied basket weaving.
The rain is falling in earnest now, sky completely gray. The wind is transporting a dizzy flock of leaves from a tall tree next door, over my neighbors house, and into my driveway. Hello Fall.
The washing machine churns while the dryer ticks, blue smoke from the chimney wafts across my view, branches squeal and tap against the front window. Marty snores on. I think I’ll join him.