This morning one of the neighborhood foxes —this bold little pup — dropped by to pay us a visit. They apparently live in a burrow behind a neighbor’s house and have been seen around Greenhead, but today is the first time this little guy visited our side yard. He took a look around and, seeing no chickens or henhouse, he opted for an old bone of Betty’s and dragged it off to gnaw on at his leisure.
We see all kinds of wildlife around here— deer, foxes, raccoons, and even a bobcat. Who knows? Maybe having foxes in the ‘hood will discourage unwanted visits from the hungry deer herd.
I’ve been tested and determined to be mildly color-blind on some parts of the color spectrum, so I never know whether I’m seeing colors in their true, natural glory. When I look at these pretty little flowers growing from a crack in the granite slab by our front door, for example, I see purple blooms. Kish, on the other hands, described them as pink.
My description of the blooms as purple may be due to a limited knowledge of the names of the various shades on the color palette. The different hues blur into each other, and to my eye, at least, there is no clear line between darker shades of pink and lighter shades of purple. Magenta is somewhere on that ill-defined border, and so are hot pink, jam and mulberry. So maybe those flowers really aren’t purple, per se.
This is why I play no role in picking out wall paint colors in our household. But least we can all agree on the green lobster boat in the background.