Lovers find secret places inside this violent world where they make transactions with beauty. Reason says, Nonsense. I have walked and measured the walls here. There are no places like that.
This world of slow question mark, single blue jay, early monarch in
milkweed, blue azure damselfliesand elusive blue indigo birds in May - is not yet in flames.
A visit to a privately owned "public garden", for a fee.
Hummingbirds are coming. They build their tiny nests from fine
materials, like the fuzz from emerging native Cinnamon ferns.
Spring beauties, on a meditative ephemeral moss
garden where, we are told, master moss keepers maintain the balance.
Royal ferns keep you in check.
Oak blossoms remind you of Spring
folktales I forgot, the fiddle heads in Christmas stockings.
For last,
the remembering of roots, some of the old colony masters. Our dream friends.
Lovers find secret places inside this violent world where they make transactions with beauty. Reason says, Nonsense. I have walked and measured the walls here. There are no places like that.