Well-washed

I think last time I tried to inventory holly varieties here, I gave up around two dozen -- and of course the hill part depends on which one you count. The top of the east pasture is a good candidate, as is the one across the lake, or best of all the high meadow behind the greenhouse.

At any rate, as I was plucking oak leaves out of this well-sculpted but spiky hedge next to the summer house over the weekend (reminder to self: next time, wear pants and a shirt), I was struck by how clean the storm had gotten them.

No more yellowish film of pollen, just a brilliant green gloss. I was out watering because after the rain, nada in terms of water except what comes from hoses and sprinklers.

I was doing some sprinkling of my own: the university station was playing a baritone (didn't catch who) singing Mahler's setting of the Rückert song "Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen." I play Janet Baker's mezzo version in my head when I need a fix of pure, beautiful Viennese Weltschmertz, and honestly I don't think I've ever heard a man sing it before, and surely not in the summer sunshine, in the breeze and glossy green.

So there's a good chance you'll see some salt spots if you look closely.

I am lost to the world
with which I used to waste so much time,
It has heard nothing from me for so long
that it may well think me gone.

It is of no consequence to me
Whether it thinks me gone;
I cannot deny it,
for I really am lost to the world.

I am lost to the world's tumult,
And I rest in a quiet realm!
I live alone in my heaven,
In my love and in my song.