Affidavit

Yesterday, these things happened:

I saw a terrace where clematis and Verbena bonariensis made invasive look good.

I found pigweed at the farmers market.

I bought pale blue plates with chameleons on them. One was chipped and must go back.

On 16th Street a strange and increasingly creepy man walked and talked very close beside me for a full, long city block. The beagle being walked in front of me knew I was in trouble and kept turning to look at me. Just when I was thinking about how hard - and how - to hit the man in the throat (You won't have lunch with me, why? You won't tell me your name? Why? Make up a name, I'm just being friendly) - he gave up, and I ducked into the subway. I wish I could thank the beagle for caring. That beagle knew.

I started a Juneberry pie.

I found a mulberry tree with fat white fruit, quite by accident.

The milkweed I thought was lost, is found, near the water.

I drank wine with a woman who knows a great deal about plants (and snakes).

I discovered - after an hour - that I had forgotten my camera at an outdoor wine bar at Pier One and ran back to look for it. It had been handed in and was being kept for me.

                                       There was a storm. I got wet. Then there was a rainbow.

Vincent and I ate burdock stems and sushi and two soy puddings at the Japanese restaurant on Henry Street.

Other things happened, too. But these were the main ones.