Peonies make no sense, a source of endless fascination. They barely hold themselves up. Scarcely do we see them and they crash apart, a mass of silken petals and lingering perfume. Elusive. Worth the wait, and too be treasured like the sweet spring breeze. Don’t miss the moment.
This weekend smells good. The peonies hang heavy in the air and the peach pie permeates the kitchen. It’s an olfactory win-win in this tiny bungalow.
On tap this week: strawberry moon, Friday (the 13th!). A lucky day for sure as mother nature prepares to serve up the goods.
Meet me in the garden. :)