[ flow-ooh-ah ]

I could blither aimlessly about how my mom obsesses about flowers, about how she probably takes solace in their beauty the same way I dripfeed music. I could wax nostalgic about how Jenn used to work at a Garden Center, and has had more flower-and-shrub knowledge hardwired than she may ever be aware of. If I felt like doing some homework, I could bore all but the nerdiest among you and explain how different soil acidities affect petal colour, and go into the chemistry thereof.

Obviously enough, I'm letting the damn things speak for themselves; they don't need my help to be spectacular, gorgeous, and growing long after we're gone.

In other news: July 4th marks my half-birthday, meaninglessly enough. D.C. puts on a stellar show every year, and we had about the best viewing location in recent memory. Obviously enough, fireworks are really hard to photograph, and not just because you're essentially taking picture of the night sky: it just feels cheap. There's just no way to convey a hundred-thousandth of the sense of being at a fireworks show. That having been said...

Music: Oddly enough, neither Deerhoof's "Flower" or Dntel's "Fireworks." Really, just more DJ Shadow.