Really, there are few things that just thrill me all the way through like the beauty of late summer flowers, bright and so rich in their colors it aches deliciously to see them.
Dahlias, oh my heart. From the Blue Heron farm-stand... They filled my day with light. I can't stop looking at them and smiling. I suppose that's what they do to bees, too...
My mother's garden. In the summer it just bursts with life and color. It is truly magic, I don't even know what to do with myself when I'm in it.
The Ur-Mother sunflower, we call her, in my mother's garden across the bay. Truly, that lady's flower is as big as my torso. Good heavens.
There's nothing like an armload of dahilas on an early September evening, as the soft-sun-sky turns gently to silver fog with the dusk coming in. I have come to love so much the summer rhythms of morning and evening fog up here on the lip of Wildcat Canyon.
And why is it, truly, that flowers bring joy, that they have the power to lift the spirit so fully?
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