when, instead of planting bluegrass that requires irrigation and a lawnmower and fertilizer and weedkiller, you encourage your yard to do what it adapted to on the foothill of the mountain, you find, as i did this morning, an array of wildflowers.
top row: yellow composites
second row down: red penstemons and sweet vetch
third row: wild roses and the very first open blossom of Palmer’s penstemon
fourth row: goat’s beard and flax
fifth row: paintbrush and bluebells
sixth row: death camas (the white flower) and blue penstemon