Look, friends: a garden.
Remember last month (my, it’s been long) when I wrote of an impending move? Well, here we are, in a garden. It’s a good one: full of ferns and a cherry tree and an elegant green canopy of a concord grapes, unripe – and mint to stir juleps for us all an evening over. There’s just enough moss between the stones to make things right under bare feet. It’s so impossibly far from the city right inside her.
Tonight I drank tea in the grass and inhaled just-rained-on air. I brushed my hands over the mint like my Yia-Yia does to oregano, bringing it close to my nose on my fingertips.
There are bumblebees about, on account of the summer and the flowers.