Ancient Silo and Seeds Again

Only one drawing today, but it took so long and was such an arduous hike to get to that it should count for a whole day's worth.  J and I hiked across a couple of very grassy fields under a very warm afternoon sun, slid under several electric fences, kicked and thrashed our way through knee-high weeds in order to get right up to the ruins of the old brick silo that stands at the end of our road in a farm field.  J climbed inside through a window to take some shots of the sky through the open top.  I stood in the shade of a big fencerow tree and drew him inside the silo.  Check Jacob's blog over the next few days to see his photos from inside the echoey, spidery, possibly wasp-nesty cylinder!

I realized today that I failed to link last night's post to Facebook, so I'm editing it and adding tonight's post to last night's.  Today I am back on the trail of seeds, wandering in the woods and wondering how it is that science has never found evidence of any kind of brain in a plant;  yet plants are able to make seeds, make food, defend themselves from predators-- and all without brains or any help from chemists or Google or medicine or any other experts.  So my words associated with seeds today are:  self-sufficient but plugged into something bigger than everything;  temporary shelters; dark; protected; juicy first, then dry and hard;  geometric in form;  encyclopedias of esoterica;  coded; brainless in the sense of a separate intelligence or ego.