3 p.m.

I love being solar powered in the late spring and summer. It’s a bit more difficult as the cloudy, rainy weather of autumn and winter settle in. I think I could almost literally hibernate. I really love Oregon for all its greenness, but I remember Colorado living up to “sunshine 360 days of the year.” We lived in Colorado for only two years, but I can’t remember a dreary day. It usually rained every day at about three o’clock in the summer. And by four the sun was back. It definitely snowed in winter, so I guess there had to be a few sunless days, but snow is bright and what I remember is sunny snow covered days.

Actually, that’s my strongest memory of winter in New York, growing up in Rochester. Autumn was mostly dark and dreary from about the middle of October, but once the snow came to stay, usually by Christmas, it wasn’t so dark, even on cloudy days. There weren’t a whole lot of them, but sunny winter days were beautifully bright. I remember looking out of classroom windows, simply absorbing the brightness.

The past few days I have felt drained of energy. Literally drained. I slept longer than usual, but still woke up feeling that it was so much effort to move, let alone get up and out of bed. I did, but feel like getting showered and dressed used up the bit of energy standing upright provided.

I think I’ll go see what a bit of wandering in the garden can do.

4:30 p.m.

It helped a bit while I was out. But I kept seeing what I had wanted to get done this summer that is still waiting. And it’s still dark inside. The daylight lightbulbs help with that (but not for going to bed earlier).

This echinacea is the bright spot of, not just the front border it’s part of, but my whole garden/yard.

The red dahlia needs deadheading, but still has beautiful blooms.

I love the red-orange of this echinacea, too, but it’s not as big a plant as the yellow one. (You can compare them in the background of the photo above this one.) I like the gold “crown” on this one. It made me wonder of the red part is actually sepals and that tiny yellow is the blossom (like on a poinsettia).

All summer the achillea was a kind of beige color, instead of pastels, but now there’s a bit of pink.

This convergence of cut branches just outside the back corner of the yard reminded me of Jude’s beasts. I don’t know why. It doesn’t look like them. Maybe just because it kinda looks like a beast.