a bee or a wee fairy

Last week on my way to the Catskills I spent a night in the 18th century river town of Hudson, New York. My son came down from Albany for dinner, and I stayed at a guest house, the dark grey building in the picture above. The small white one is the Quaker Meeting House. It looks very staid from the front,

but I perched in the treetop suite, behind the main building.

I read on my little porch, and Emma the dog visited me.

It could have been furnished by my store.

I fell flat out in love with this marvelous little garden room/porch.

It is the time of year when I wish I was a bee, flitting from flower to flower. Or a wee fairy--I would climb inside a lily of the valley. There is a big robin who splashes daily in my bird bath. We are becoming friends.