六月的一个周日 (w English)
六月的山荒草绵绵。6/14是个周日，走了二十分钟的山，回家的路上又去大公园里的一个garden走了走，摄得几张照片，存于此。
The vulture was scudding in the air, skimming over the brown grass in search of food. The grass has turned yellow, but life may still teem in the bush.
An inactive young rabbit by the roadside did not hop away as most rabbits do when we approached it. Days later when we looked at the rabbit in the picture, we were disconcerted to see a gray spot in the neck. This rabbit may have been attacked by a tick.
The only trail leading up is narrow and steep, hard for us to keep a distance with hikers who didn't wear masks. I had to put mine on when they were coming down from the opposite direction, passing by a stone throw from us. Ascending the hill, breathing through a mask, I heard every rhythmic breathing of my own, in and out laboriously. After only 20 minutes’ hike, we decided to turn back. Never would I think that the freedom of hiking in the hill would one day be stripped away. It is not the snake that made me feel ill at ease this time.
On the way back, we saw a large-sized billboard under the freeway bridge flashing that the farmer’s market was open again. We drove in. After we parked our car, it was still 20-30 minutes away before the farmer’s market opened at 10 am. But the food kiosks canopied under tents were mostly set up, scattering circularly around the big parking lot. We roamed in the area, and then walked towards a garden on the other end. The garden, guarded by wired fences on four sides, is a mini plantation, where fruit trees and vegetables are grown inside. It was also close till 10. We decided to wait outside, taking pictures of flowers that climbed out of the fences. We saw through fences the dwarfed peach and apple trees, their solid branches spreading and trimmed along the fences, each hung heavily with fruits. Red and luscious are the ripe peaches, small and green are the apples. Five minutes before 10, the gate was open to let us in. Greeted by an arched entrance over which laden with green passion fruit and flowers, we entered the arbor, loitering away half an hour inside before we exited. It is a wonderful experimental garden that has almost everything, from a chicken coop to an exotic fruit that we don’t even know the name of.
We were stopped by the administers, as we were sauntering towards the kiosk in the parking lot, telling us that the farmer’s market under Cov19 is only available to the drive-through cars. Looking at the long queue of the cars, crawling along the kiosks at a snail pace, people conversing with sellers without even rolling down the windows, we decided to go straight home. But a stroll in the park, in the lively garden, satiated us profusely.