Harrummph.

Two observations tonight. One is that when I walked home from the coffee shop this morning, I saw a cat - a calico kitten, really - and a dog - a small dachsund mix - together on someone's driveway. Now, that doesn't probably sound very worthy of notice except - it's been a long time since I've seen a cat and dog together, just hanging out on a driveway! Brought back memories of when neighbor dogs kind of cooled their heels around the front door step, and the cats sat under a shrub, and they all got along more or less. This kitten was wearing a collar; she was big as my father's shoe. The dog wagged its tail my way. The cat, focused on the dog, crouched into pouncing position, as though she were going to fly onto the dog, who looked back at her, like, 'Harrummph.'

The other observation is not new. There seem to be neighbors here and there experimenting with discovering what local plants would be flourishing if there were no suburban lawns. They set aside small areas - some as small as one foot by one foot, some maybe two by six. They create a border of bricks or stones, and then, they don't do anything. They don't weed or mow or prune what comes up in that little space, but just wait and see.

What would grow on this square foot of territory were it never mowed? The results are fascinating and surprisingly appealing - these tufts of wild grass, vines, tiny blooms and saplings. They have a kind of sparky personality and diversity.