Does anyone else become peeved when reading a novel and the author is just tossing in plants with no regard to season? Suddenly, there we are in autumn but the author has camas in flower? Really influences (negatively) my enjoyment of the book. And let us not get into movies. Ladyhawk, a favorite. But why an American redtail in a Euro-mythological country!? Judy in New Jersey where endless rain has given way to sunshine, puffy white clouds, and ever-increasing humidity. The weeds are lovin' it.