What do you know, it’s pouring some more.  It’s like August is the new April, only warmer.  I have to time my gardening between buckets.  Not that I’m complaining.  Nature is drinking it up, and so am I.

During a rare sunny break yesterday, I took these moths on zinnias, caterpillars on dill and parsley, a California native poppy in the rock garden, sunflowers cleverly avoiding decapitation by squirrel, and a brilliant sunset between rains.  As I wrote this, the large hawk swooped in past my window and into “E’s tree”, but I couldn’t catch it–yet.