Resurgent

There to be enjoyed at each and every colony of oxblood lilies is a fourth, and probably final, wave of bloom. There's been no sign of lycoris radiata. Astonishingly, English peas have germinated and do not seem to be affected by the heat. The grasshoppers have not consumed them. They are somewhat shaded by Turk's cap. Some bush beans from a nickel seed packet came up and were devoured, leaving a sole survivor, now blossoming. Another wonder is that the volunteer torenia, in a pot in full sun, never wilts at all, although the zinnias appear by suppertime to be past reviving, and they do benefit from shade at some times during the day. The website for the electric department does not incorporate any press release on the flickering and browning out, but the Statesman did have a squib about the destruction by fire of a transformer fifteen minutes before our phenomenon, which was probably a result of hasty re-allocations over the grid. The paper reports that up to ten thousand people were without power for up to two hours in the middle of the night. I hate it when the fans slow and then return to speed again, echoing whatever is happening to the power supply. There will be an end to summer one of these times, unless The World As We Know It ends before that! Which some of K's Adventist friends are coming to believe may be entirely possible.