We live in a region of the country with no grand vistas; mountain ranges or ocean views.
It is flat-ish, with a few softly rolling hills and many trees which obscure any sort of long-distance sightlines.
I’ve visited mountains and oceans and they are exhilarating. There’s little to compare with the excitement of watching a storm roll in from the sea or basking in the beauty of a sunrise spreading into a mountain valley.
Where I live there isn’t much of that macro magnificence.
So I try to look for what we do have, and it’s usually small things.
The other day as the sun was setting, its final tawny rays lit up the garden and set something aglow which was caught in a frond of achillea foliage. I picked it up, the skeletonized husk of a tomatillo. It looked golden in the sunlight. I set it down and went inside for the camera.
I tried to grow tomatillos once before. I only planted one, and that was my big mistake then, because they need two to bear fruit. This year I planted four and waited for the deluge of husked tomato-ey fruit. I did have tomatillos, but they were few in number and small. The foliage got powdery mildew and many of the fruits softened and rotted before they ripened.
Still trying to figure out where I went wrong this year; but the husks! Featherweight and intricate like the finest lace and when the sun hits them just right, iridescent.
Fairies take note: these would make perfect garden lanterns.