Last Saturday, the Peony Goddess swooped in and filled my room with more pink petals than can be counted. And then Sunday, my dear Porch Light shone on me, illuminating my sorest places with coffee and the grace of companionship through this unyielding storm.
Their work done for another year, the peonies finally gave in to the warm days and rain – although their fragrance lingers on the dried bouquet, if you are brave enough to lean in for a taste. Now the sun will put the dormant sugars to work, sweetening into corn and peaches and tomatoes. Summer air, heavy with heat and humidity, clinging to my skin – the price of fireflies blinking out their hopeful Morse code at twilight, the blue sinking in to the earth and us.