Dragged out into the field…again, Part II: There’s a fine line between beauty and death.

A few more photos from our rambly, scrambly day:


Old Plainsman. Indeed, it is a bit stooped and wavery. (Or perhaps my innate, all-powerful godhood has inspired it to genuflect. I shall, of course, accept its obeisance.)

The human female says this is a “Fringed Puccoon.” Suuuuure it is…


To me, that sounds like the name of either some exotic tropical bird or a very unpleasant social disease.

This coral honeysuckle was flowering above our heads, up where hummingbirds can reach it easily. Sigyn wanted to know what color the flowers are inside, so I magicked a blossom down. Look! The inside is orange!


We have been out here a long time, and I have poked a tendril of magic at the human female to cause her to begin to think that it is time for her lunch. She often brings snacks along but has failed to do so today. Would it be too evil of me to suggest that the crunchy bulbs of Zigadenus nuttallii (Nuttall’s Deathcamas) would be yummy? It would certainly cut this hike short!


While the peckish mortal fossicks about for botanical comestibles, Sigyn and I can enjoy a nice rest in this magnificent specimen of Penstemon cobaea.


Sigyn wants to creep inside and examine the bee-guide purple markings. Be careful, my treasure. You’d fit just fine, but the flowers are quite slick with nectar and I wouldn’t like you to slip out and fall!

Hmmm. The female has declined to sample the Zigadenus (damn!) but has consented to return home (about time.) Say farewell to the outcrop, Sigyn. If you are a good girl, perhaps we can come back another time.

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