Last week's flowers (from my garden!) still look pretty good. I thought one peony was perfect with a bit of salvia and mountain laurel.
It's been raining for days, and the peonies are getting weighted down and rusty around the edges, so today I picked several in various stages.
I am slowly letting go of the store. It will be open until mid-August, but it's hard to be there. Fortunately I have other passions.
Putting together a proposal for a book.
I'm not quite ready to discuss it, but there are clues on my book shelves,
and in this poem:
You Ask Why
You ask why I make my home in the mountain
and I smile, and am silent.
and even my soul remains quiet:
it lives in the other world
which no one owns
The peach trees blossom.
The water flows.