August 4, 2022
Today is Thursday. Another surprise arrival has been this whopper of a lily that I planted too close to the false indigo last year and had no hopes would thrive.
I smelled it before I saw it. Sniff sniff sniffing my way across the lawn, I marveled. Could it be?
I turned to my left, peeked around the corner, and there it was—looking almost like a bouquet thrown from a passing car. But the more I look at it now, the more I see a glorious corsage pinned to the false indigo’s gown. Maybe they’ll get along just fine after all.
“Life must be aromatic.
There must be scent, somehow there must be some.”