A patch of blue

Keith and his crew were giving the driveway its first mowing of the season yesterday -- actually the first mowing since last fall, when they spread a few tons of new dirt in the bald spots and reseeded -- and were kind enough to detour around me.

I was sprawled on my stomach, prime position for the manufacture of photographer tartare, at the edge of this patch of weeds: blossom heads about half an inch high, somewhere between clovers and salvia, and a color that instantly made me think of old Mr. Valdez' Conch Republic flag.

Yep. Still homesick, despite such a fair day and an afternoon in the 80s. And rueful that I didn't bring a new flag north, since the one under the stars and stripes on our flagpole is ragged from the winter wind.

Keith eventually left the patch standing, and it made me think: Wouldn't an acre or so of this stuff, in a rectangle interplanted with the right pattern of yellow and pink, look great in one of our meadows?