The journey began wit an interest in a word. Or, the memory of a quote half-muddled as certain words sparked a flame. Partly sunny, the day warrants advisories over the heat. Limit outdoor activity and in cases where the exposure cannot be avoided, remain hydrated. Just this week, I found respite in a watering hole a few streets down. To slake thirst or generate ideas, I had many reasons to embark. I made plans to return for the purpose of furthering my art, sharing with others.
Deadhead came up in the novel by Mario Puzo, I feel to describe someone listless. Not exactly a wet blanket, but someone tired with sleepy eyes; an old cat gives the same impression. A quick search on the internet revealed something curious. To remove dead flower heads from a plant, encourages further blooming! Furthermore, one who cultivates roses, especially as an occupation, carries the title rosarian. Thus, I plan to tend to them more closely, pruning, watering and naming them in an effort to see them through these blazing temperatures. Admittedly, this weather stands out precisely because it feels novel; never before have I felt so hot, dry and arid.
The evidence glares hotly at you, the wilting shriveled petals hardly protest. A baby too tired to cry, I'll take on whatever title to watch over the defenseless. The berries growing in Hoenn can manage themselves. In the days to come, this photographer will picture himself two green thumbs, before all my plants are dead, not just the heads.
These photos will serve as the picture before my restoration campaign.
