Today is the day Sigyn has been waiting for all year. The breeze is warm, the sun is playing hide-and-seek, and the wildflowers are FINALLY putting on their spring show. The human female has taken us out for a drive to Minty Springs (that place where there is no mint and no springs) south of town, where the flowers really like the sandy soil.
Sigyn, of course, has made an itty-bitty beeline for the bright red paintbuckets.
She’d lie back and gaze up at them all day if we’d let her. But last year’s dry grass is itchy.
The human female says it’s a good year for the bluehats. I hate to admit it, but she’s right. That is a very fine shade of blue.
Sigyn is greeting them like old friends.
Sigyn, do you usually climb your old friends?
I think all the really bright flowers are out today. These bibulous, oenophilic cup-shaped ones are a particularly vivid shade of…
…I don’t even know what you call it. I’ve certainly never seen wine that color.
And this flock of little stars can only be described as pinky-purple-fading-to-bluish.
And each one has a purple eye in the middle.
Sigyn has the right of it: If you put all of these colors together in a shirt or a painting, folks would call it garish and be repulsed, but out here, it doesn’t look half bad.
But that does give me a good idea for a spell to put on the human female’s wardrobe…