Lamenting the vast volumes of memories that disappear with age. Where are all the loves, hurts, joys, accomplishments, dreams and heart breaks? Woven in the fabric of my being so tightly that the individual threads disappear. Leaving the impressionistic overview, details fading into the background.
Sometimes my memory will attach to a tiny little detail breaking forth a tidal wave of love lost. And so it is with Queen Anne's Lace. This delicate bloom always bring me back to my Grandmother's in rural Pennsylvania. Sunny days picking bouquets with my sister or cousins on the way to the school playground. A golden glow shimmering all around.
Happy, warmth, laughter, love, kinship ... just beautiful.
Miss you Grandma! These blooms are for you wherever your soul is today.
POSTCARDS from the Garden
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