Orange Obsession

Not the eating sort of oranges, though I've binged on oranges before. Really good oranges are addictive, with just enough work in peeling them and enough health benefits to make a temporary obsession seem almost noble. 

This isn't that, this is just pure, enjoyed obsession. The sort that a l m o s t makes me want to taste these. I'm afraid to look up if they would be non-objectional to eat because then I just might.

From no blooms for awhile to short hard rains and a good yard session - attacking those viney killing weeds, the ones that slide around, slenderly climbing, like baby boas of the plant world - the blooms have returned en masse, the plants breathing and exhaling, pushing beauty into the world.

In the early morning light all of the magic is not interrupted by remembering drifts of science classes...stamens, pistols, ovules, anthers. The cycle of earth and rain and bees and birds. It was so elegant, even for a young child, so obvious, the science only leading to enjoying the beauty even more. 'That's the stamen, that's pollen!'

Drawn to orange beauty. I can think of worse ways to spend some time.

Have a macroscopic Monday. Do something metamorphic.