The ferns above grow in a gully next the the road a few houses away. The ditch separates the swampy woods from the pavement. After a rain the toads and frogs of those woods croak with such volume that it is alarming. Last month the city or the property owner mowed every thing close to the road to the ground. There were a few varieties of purple and wild flowers, wild orange- red gladiolus (who knew?), and these ferns. Loved the flowers, but I missed the ferns the most. On a scorching day (we've been having 110 heat index with air so saturated with water that toweling off after a shower is just wasted energy) the ferns always look so fresh and cool.
Mingus and Coltrane on the trail of a mysterious scent. It went that-away. Coltrane is the typical little "brother" - always pushing his way into whatever Ming is doing or whatever space Ming occupies.