Equality, do you want it? You're not getting it for Christmas
Despite feeling especially weird and fractured and furious with a country and now it seems a state that would like me to die conveniently off (bureaucracy, finances, doctors, catch-22's), I managed to get out of the house this evening with
spatch and a camera.

The heart of a clematis looks like a sea anemone. Or an alien.

Rose season gives way to daylily season.

A couple of roses are still giving their best Georgia O'Keeffe.

I could not manage to take a picture of these hydrangeas that made them look like as much of a Tiffany pattern as they did in three dimensions.

Remember last year when I discovered that we live across the street from slaveholding ground? There's the monument to prove it. History in this country is like tripping over a branch and finding it's bone. Six hundred acres of land and, to begin with, three human beings.

We walked on. We applauded this unknown plant at the end of Governor Winthrop Road.

The foxgloves were blueshifting.

The texture of the petals as much as their color fascinated me.
I am beginning to feel that my life has become a perpetual process of discovering damage I knew I had taken but didn't understand the depth of and I have to say it's a lot more wearying than any process of discovery has a right to be. My brain just stalled out this evening trying to assimilate the idea of people having loyalty to me. That's terrible. I'm not even sure it's Tiny Wittgenstein. It's just stupid.

The heart of a clematis looks like a sea anemone. Or an alien.

Rose season gives way to daylily season.

A couple of roses are still giving their best Georgia O'Keeffe.

I could not manage to take a picture of these hydrangeas that made them look like as much of a Tiffany pattern as they did in three dimensions.

Remember last year when I discovered that we live across the street from slaveholding ground? There's the monument to prove it. History in this country is like tripping over a branch and finding it's bone. Six hundred acres of land and, to begin with, three human beings.

We walked on. We applauded this unknown plant at the end of Governor Winthrop Road.

The foxgloves were blueshifting.

The texture of the petals as much as their color fascinated me.
I am beginning to feel that my life has become a perpetual process of discovering damage I knew I had taken but didn't understand the depth of and I have to say it's a lot more wearying than any process of discovery has a right to be. My brain just stalled out this evening trying to assimilate the idea of people having loyalty to me. That's terrible. I'm not even sure it's Tiny Wittgenstein. It's just stupid.

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your photos are beautiful. i'm sorry things continue hard.
*hugs if wanted*
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:hugs:: for the difficult part.
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The pictures are beautiful, as ever - especially that clematis!
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Thank you for this bouquet of brilliant colors and textures. I want to touch the lilies in the last one. Your blue-shifting foxgloves are delphinium. The あじさい/hydrangea are THE flower of this season in Japan, and seeing those beauties makes me very nostalgic. And I want to go to the world that clematis is from. Oh wait, I live here. ... Anyway, it's a very healing bouquet for me--I hope that true, real healing comes soon for you.
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Yeah. :(
Thank you for sharing these lovely pictures - the last one is so cool! and YAY for the brave little plant growing up through the concrete! do you have any idea if the space around it was pre-existent, or it just started growing on its own and someone cleared the circle of concrete around it to give it room to grow? - and I'm sorry things suck right now.
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There's so much to be said about what people choose to memorialize in monuments. I'm not aware of the history of slavery in New England having any memorials, while the spurious history of the Viking origins of New England has several.
And *hugs*.
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I have not gotten a chance yet to read the rest of the entry, but *wow* did this line sing to me.
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