It’s fall here.

Sort of.

We’ve had a very dry summer, followed by more dry.

Indian summer.

The grass is dead, except for the weeds

And the crazy watering-people’s lawns.

We aren’t crazy.

We don’t water our grass with drinking water.

Do you ever think about that?
We shower in drinking water.
We wash our cars with drinking water.
We water our grass with drinking water.
To most people of the world, that’s like bathing in gold powder.

Our grass crunches under foot.

Especially near this tree.

Beautiful reds swirl into green marble

Next to these.

Oddly elegant

Like nature’s Christmas ornaments

But come winter, they brown and fall too.

Once down, they are vicious:

fierce spike-covered orbs

camouflaged in the lawn

next to the dog’s aromatic land mines.

Footwear is mandatory.

Written in the spirit of Duane-Scott’s Pleasantly-Disturbed Thursdays
(even though it’s Friday and he isn’t hosting Pleasantly Disturbed this week….
and he’s quit doing this blog meme. Oh well!).