Last year was wet. The winter brought the rain I expected, but the spring sent down one shower after another. A drenching by Socal standards, which is an admittedly low standard, but I was happy. About the weather at least. The governor commanded that doors close, some to keep us in, others to keep us out. My home became the sodden ground and the stirrings beneath it. Winter rains primed young roots to anchor in this sandy earth, only an eye-blink past being shallow floor, but fertile enough for goat's foot. Leaves in heart-shaped triplets, often with little spots. Where it was wet a lime colored carpet spread in a few days time. And soon enough little yellow cups on their little yellow stalks, often turning down just at the top, slightly mournfully. This year has been dry. But the goat's feet still came, though the only carpet I've found was on an overwatered lawn. The little yellow cups that close in the dark are sparser. Lovely little invaders nonetheless.
Oxalis pes-caprae