sovay | Cherry-glazed black lines over your eyes

For the first time in almost exactly a month, I got outside in the afternoon to photograph the flowering things of my neighborhood, with cameo appearances by the lilac beyond our back deck and Autolycus watching me make dinner.

The lilac in its full ornament.

Two-toned dogwood.

The windblown elm.

J.J. Abrams, eat your heart out.

Tiger lily tulips.

A cup of fire.

Like heraldic banners.

Just a very nice color of dogwood.

Brittling but beautiful.

Hot-hearted.

I didn't recognize these flowers. Their spots reminded me of pitcher plants, which they were not. [edit] They are foxgloves! Good thing we didn't eat them.

There's so much motion in trees in bloom.

Redbud!

A profusion.

Autolycus, the flower of our kitchen.

Dinner was a somewhat disrupted affair, but

spatch located Busby Berkeley's The Gang's All Here (1943) on TCM. I have seen this film twice and it remains, even at small-screen size, a functionally inexpressible experience whose existence I appreciate equally beyond words.

I would like something nice to happen in the world; all the news lately seems to run in the opposite direction. It's getting tiring.