We awoke this morning to a quiet Ansel Adams-style frost covering the neighborhood. After taking Ellis to Aikido, I wandered up and down the block with my camera to capture the dusty crystalline beauty of the weather. There are two full-fledged native plant restoration gardens that bookend our block. One is mine and the other is a neighbor's more mature, fuller, wilder prairie garden at the other end of the street. I love them in the summer, but when all the rest of the world is green and in bloom, they stand out less. In the winter, however, all dried, brown, and stalky, they stand as a reminder in this urban landscape, that the world really belongs to the plants.
