Common Nature

>> I love the straightforward and determinedly unmarketable name you’ve given your marigold landrace.<<

*laugh*

In fact, I said they were "built like a brick shithouse" because they can survive a light to medium frost (we've had a few already, enough to knock back the coleus and parts of the tomatoes) and can sprout volunteers through lawn grass. My readers said that should be their name, so there you have it. :D

>> You’ve managed an almost heroic framing of the squirrel <<

Thank you!

>> (and good for you that you’ve got a black walnut that’s at least productive enough for squirrels.) <<

We have them all over the yard. When I was little, we had trees but they rarely spawned, so when one did sprout, we let it grow unless it was absoutely in the way. Now they're everywhere, like weeds. They do support a thriving population of fox squirrels, who are currently digging holes all over the yard to cache nuts for winter.

>> The neon magenta salvias and million-bells (I’d not known weeping petunias had a specific name), <<

Superbells is another term for those mini-petunias. I'm a big fan of them. I usually buy several, as their colors mix well in containers. I think that's the last one still blooming.

>> along with the purple morning glories and blue lobelias, are a defiant assertion of the cool half of the color wheel during the season when oranges, yellows, and browns prevail <<

I had some blue bachelor's buttons blooming the septic garden too, that I forgot to shoot.

>> all united in your unruly, complex, teeming, vital, HOA-snubbing yard.<<

ROTFLMAO!!!

That is such a perfect description. Yes, it looks like a mess to human eyes, but the wildlife loves it. Fortunately, I'm out in the country where nobody cares what I grow.

I think if a HOA member saw it, she'd probably clutch her pearls and have a heart attack.