Callery pear leaf and fruit

Wednesday is my catch-up day. I don’t teach on campus on Wednesdays, so I can sleep in and take a long, leisurely dog-walk before getting started with grading, online teaching, and other teaching tasks. Wednesday is when I run errands, do laundry, and catch up with housework. My Wednesdays always feature a full to-do list, “catching up” being a never-ending task. But because I don’t typically have to be anywhere at any particular time on Wednesdays, I can take my time chipping away at my midweek to-dos. Wednesdays are always busy, but they are busy in a relaxing way.

Queen Anne's lace

Now that November is over and I’m no longer committed to posting every day, I feel like my blog-mind has started to go to seed. This morning when I walked Reggie on the rail-trail where we often walk on Wednesdays, I couldn’t help taking lots of pictures of plants that have gone to seed, their tidy blooms replaced by fuzzy fluff, wizened fruit, or scraggly bracts. Last week or the week before, I would have stockpiled these Wednesday pictures to use throughout the week, but this morning I wasn’t pushing to feed the blog. Instead, I let Reggie off his leash, and we each walked at our own pace, stopping to sniff or photograph whatever caught our fancy. Instead of clinging to the blooms of seasons past, we allowed things to ripen into untidy seediness.

Grass gone to seed

I think my fondness for flowers that have gone to seed is related to my fondness for weeds. Gone-to-seed flowers, like weeds, are scraggly, scrappy, and untidy. Gone-to-seed flowers, like weeds, have no place in a proper garden, as respectable gardeners diligently deadhead those blossoms that are past their prime. It should come as no surprise that for all my fondness for wildflowers and weeds, I’m no gardener, content to let my landlord keep my yard from falling into unbridled fecundity. If it were up to me, plants as well as dogs would be free to run off-leash, enjoying the leisure of commitment-free days to flower, fade, and fruit in their own time, not mine.