I wondered why the weeds took over my green lawn in the last two years after being lawn forever before that. Those golden rolling hills of California? They’re green in the spring before the rains stop (supposedly by now, and the weeds got tired of waiting for it to stop being so wet and turned brown anyway.)
At long last I know why we’ve been going native.
I’d seen the little thing running up a tree about a week ago with a mouthful like this, and then later doing what he again did today–he was digging and trying to plant this mouthful as if it were a nut. A weed-farming squirrel!
The quail likes the seeds from these, and I guess the squirrels do too.
Um.
Still, it does look funny with that straw beard.
(No knitting today: too much to catch up on, housewise. Quite a few home improvement projects happened in my absence and I’m trying to do likewise in return.)