One of the oddities of my previous residence was that it had essentially no direct sun. It wasn't dark (well, not exactly dark) and it did have some terrific views—over 80 miles on a clear day—which I truly miss. But its windows all faced north, which meant low-light plants were de rigueur, and, for the majority of their lives, two of my cats had no warm comfy puddles of sunshine in which to snooze.
Due to a variety of mature, nearby trees, the new digs aren't exactly sun-drenched. Nonetheless, a full selection of north, south, east, and west-facing windows are available, several of which reliably permit direct sunlight to enter the houseweather permitting, of course. (This is Seattle.) And I was kinda curious how my older cats would react.
Let's just say that if I can get this close to Wednesday without hissing, claws, and much protesting, puddles of sunshine would seem to be a big hit.
Meanwhile, the yard(s) continue to produce multicolored curiosities, such as this foxglove.
Oh, and one of the plants which failed Geoff's New Weed Identification Regimen turned out to have been a deliberately cultivated growth.
Hey, what's life without fine print?