Vexation is a consequence of perspective. Trouble is still trouble but it is simply nearest; one concentrates on what remains farther out. We know this as longanimity, the quiet faith.

Nature's peroration, with spring long past and the flowers yet in bloom.

Red, white and two blues.

Rushing out to the balcony is never a planned item in the morning routine, but rarely a fruitless one, either.

I was responsible for the slanting angle and short distance between my camera's lens and a honeybee. A wind kept pushing the flower's stalk away in short puffs; the benign, little worker collected nectar without regard for his photographer. In focus and frame, out, back in again. Some credit goes to Providence — or luck, if you insist.

I couldn't believe the clouds when I saw them, either.

It is some heavy reliance on technicality, but Yes, the sun did shine today.

And it was someone else's rain.

Word must have reached some upstart, Norse thunder-bringer that I was ready to announce the end of a meteorologically benign summer.

In the past, lightning has been an unwilling subject — Tuesday evening, I turned off all lights, sat in front of the window, opened the camera's shutter for four seconds at a time, and left the electricity to its work.

Cats: in your laundry.

Cats: under your bed.

Cats: occupying the floorspace just inches from the base molding.