Were I to be scattered to the meadows when I die, there I would lay for a perfectly long period of rest. Then my atoms might awaken once again, knotting themselves into riotously joyful wildflowers and delightfully sinister mushrooms, to live yet another thousand thousand colourful lifetimes. Enjoy this local cow parsley captured Thursday evening, after which my first thought was “Oh that was such a pleasant lie-down without mosquitoes. Too bad they are coming soon!” 😭🦟 If I return as a mosquito someone please just smack me and let me become a flower. . . It’s a long weekend in Canada so we’ve driven down to the States to hike in Washington for the first time in years, a revisit to prepandemic habits. We just saw a possum waddle across the road and my heart burst with cuteness. I won’t have cell service so excuse my silence. . . On the unceded lands of the Coast Salish, Tsleil-Waututh, Squamish, Stó:lō, Stz’uminus, and Musqueam First Nations.