Seal, Solomon

One of the parks in the area has small signs for native plants. Miss B thinks they’re morning newspapers; it was difficult getting her snoot away to take a picture. She’ll sniff all day if I let her, eyes rolling back in her head and her entire being focused on untangling who passed by and who peed.

The only thing she doesn’t like about our daily runs is not having time to stop and sniff. She has to wait for rambles to do that, and it’s anyone’s guess which excites her more. After a ramble, she collapses to sleep, twitching while her little canine brain processes all the new input.

Anyway, here’s the sign for Solomon’s seal (NOT the Goetic, the botanical) and if you’re thinking wait a minute, there doesn’t seem to be any there, you’re correct. It’s too early in the season, it’s still dormant.

But I like the sign.

  • Michael Mock

    Ah. Upon seeing the title, I thought you’d run out of patience with waiting for our current administration to end the world, and invoked the Seal to open the Way yourself.

    Imagine my embarrassment. (Not, I admit, untinged with a whiff of disappointment.)

  • I laughed a little more frantically at this than I should…