How quickly one's mood can change, given different circumstances, or events.
Or maybe, the weather changes the Moods. The Barometric Pressure, exerting it's influence upon the body.
The tidal ebb and flow, infuenced by the phases of the Moon.
This pic, was taken around 15 minutes ago, which was 7pm EST in Australia.
We are about to experience a thunderstorm.
Leo is acutely aware of this change in pressure, weather, call it what you will.
He can sense a thunderstorm long before we can. He becomes anxious, and somewhat distressed. He often seeks comfort from a friend of ours, with whom he is wary/distant at other times. He often comes to seek comfort from me, when he is most often Gom's dog, exclusively.
Honey is totally indifferent, & the electrical storms bother her not one whit.
We have been having rain, and rather coolish weather. Not unusual for this Spring Season, which tends to be very fickle and unpredictable, most years.
About a week to 17 days ago, we had a very hot, dry spell. The result of this was the pot of Lobelia on the balcony, turned into this pot of moss!
See, the dying remnants of the Lobelia. Poor things.
Another picture of ruins, the result of Leo Tap Dancing on this small garden in a pot.
The lettuce was killed outright, the rocket recovered to an degree, but the parsely hangs in the balance... ruins.
On a happier note, this continues to delight me, in spite of large neglect. It is lovely with bloom, at present. It has turned it's faces from me, but I suspect that is because I turned the pot around. At least it still lives!!
Here, I can't be a total failure. These seeds I sowed of Italian Parsely would appear to be thriving. I realise I am going to have to try to transpant them, so they can survive, & further thrive. Wish me luck....
Here, the basil & thyme appear to be happy. I know they would love more sun, but the CCTPPO* is at work, I fear.
This pretty little Heartsease is doing it's best to provide a little cheer.
Our little Grandson will turn 7 this week. He is so excited.
I can't really remember being 7.
I do remember being 8, as that was when my Grandfather died. A very strange time, with hushed voices, & no information forthcoming. I don't recall his funeral at all, and I know I did not attend. I suspect it was thought, back in those days, not a place for children to be.
I find it strange to think we were not allowed to say our goodbyes to our Grandfather.
We had lived with him, for most of our lives, my younger brother and I.
Thom Yorke, Black Swan