Yellow rules our hollow these days. Except for the splash of purple at the dip in the road (my prairie verbena, still hanging in there), a few droopy Mexican hats and the red Indian blanket patches popping up in our little front yard, yellow is the color of the season; I counted at least six different shapes of yellow on my walk this morning.
Yellow is the color of summer. The calendar might say it's still spring, but if you break a sweat walking at eight in the morning, wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt, it's summer, isn't it? I can't believe there are this many wildflowers that like the heat, but I'm glad they do...
