I'd name these flowers, but I can't. Except what looks totally like a passion/parcha flower, right here.
|I do know that that little creature is an ant. And this looks lily like.|
|Are these gladiolas? Or just glad?|
|These are everywhere in all sort of colors on the fences. Linda says in winter they are not so pretty. I'll never see that, so I like them very much.|
|Chrysanthemum of some special sort?|
|This might be a hollyhock. Maybe. But that is certainly a bee.|
|Another parcha type|
|Even I know this is a sunflower!|
|This red stood out from the other end of this particular alley. Bam!|
|Grapes!! This yard feels so comfortable.|
|Who needs man-made Christmas decorations? Oh. that winter thing. Never mind.|
I'm venturing farther and farther afield in my alley stealth walks yet no matter how far I've gone, what began as startling and now isn't unusual is that some dog will bark behind a fence and a voice will call out 'Mackey?' Then the owner will come over, someone wondering, who is this person walking Linda's dog. Linda thinks they don't know her name, just his. They know both, don't tell.
I've been questioned nicely a few times, in beautiful neighborly concern, but I still laugh to myself each time. Mad dog napper, moving into Linda's life, she's in the basement, hahahaha! ? But outwardly I am polite; Culebra humour doesn't play well everywhere.
Have a mildly mad Monday. Do something munificent.