SUMMER FLOWERS

Before the macro lens went on, I took the following pics just for the vibrant colors that surrounded me in the garden.

This Bachelor Button shows exactly why periwinkle is my favorite shade of blue!

This poppy seemed to be suspended, as the stem is exactly the color of  the backgound foliage:

I laughed to see this wild grass spearing the dandelion; both were interlopers in the cultivated gardens:

I always love spotting a bit of rusticity (if that can be called a word!)

Then, on went the macro lens for a closer look:

Daylily center:

I love the painted-look color of this daylily:

And here is that grass-speared dandelion, this time with macro lens:

This poppy center looks like it could be a sea creature:

This poppy might be my favorite, with the ruffled edges looking to be self-illuminated:

OH! WHAT A MORNING!

Saturday morning, early, was just the right time to get myself down to my own "private" flower garden.  Well, the gardens are not mine at all, and they are not formally "open".  I happen to know the grower who has given me the open invitation to tiptoe amongst the blossoms with my camera any time I want.  How lucky is that?  It would not do for folks to tromp around in there; these flowers are grown for sale in local markets, as cut blossoms.

The poppies are nearly gone, but I got a kick out of these late buds living up

to their name.  I could almost hear them POP!

It looked to me, on these sunflower buds, like gummy threads were keeping them from opening too soon:

PEEK-A-BEE!   The pink poppies were luscious.  And the bees thought so too.  On this first pic, it looks like Mr. Bee is wearing horned-rimmed glasses.

BEE'S KNEES!  They are so packed with purple pollen, they seemed to be wearing moon boots.

HEARTACHE and a TRIBUTE

Two mornings ago our precious 12-year-old cat, Avvie, was attacked and killed right at our front door by two "large, vicious" (according to a neighbor witness) dogs.  They chased her about 2 blocks and actually pulled her from her safe refuge in a porch hedge.  She did not deserve such a tragic and frightening end.  She still breathed for awhile as I  held her and talked to her.

Avvie, survivor of high-mountain life with cougars and coyotes; comforter of the sick; keeper of the raspberry patch; tolerator of childrens' curiosity and caresses; equally devoted to both myself and husband, to the point that surely she could actually tally time and space; social director for house company.  She was a gentle grand old girl who still had kitten energy at times.