The meadow in Santa Cruz is looking greener than I have seen it before, and is awash with yellow spring flowers. The new, young grass and tissue thin petals of the flowers move with the cool breeze like fabric - Cinderella dressed for the ball. But by June, it will be back to dusty rags, as the sun drys the grass to brittle ochre, and the spring flora is but a memory.
These seed pods drop from the huge madrone trees, they remind me of buttons and are quite beautiful and incredibly robust. Pixie helps me gather some, sniffing each one to know it's story before I arrange them in fissure in a fallen tree - organic art! I wonder who will notice it, and who will wonder where it came from?
The next day I went back - and the pod art had gone. I imagined a child, excitedly stuffing them into pockets and taking them home, perhaps to creatively imagine them into something else, or to join dry pasta and glue on crumpled paper on the fridge - a dinosaur? The thought makes me smile, and I continue with my journey as the seed pods continue on theirs.
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