even five minutes is better than nothing

Jonesing for my outside time, I hauled myself out the door this morning before breakfast. Self, you have five minutes. Go.

The closed gentian, once so deliciously purple, is truly rocking the Miss Havisham look.


Bonus round: this one comes with a slug.  I wonder what the blobs of green goo are. Hm.


I am embarrassed to report I don’t know what this is.

I’m pretty sure this is a mullein, though. A blurry mullein. I think it was crisper in real life.

Common evening primrose. Fairies probably make pants out of these.
Need some color? The euonymous bush is happy to provide.


Five minutes. It hit the spot. I remembered who I am, why I am on the planet, etc. And then I went to work.  And when I came home from work, I was in need of another reminder of who I am, and why I am on the planet. So I did the next best thing: I went for a run.
In the rain.
I thought I hated running in the rain, but I may have discovered the secret to tolerating it: wear a baseball hat. Anything with a visor. Aha! Without the rain in my eyes, it became a pleasant journey through the landscape on a day I would otherwise have remained couch-bound. The sound of drizzle on the beaver pond was particularly delightful.
Endorphins: your friend.
What do you do when you’re in need of remembering who-you-really-are?