
Marveling at the beauty of the glorious gladiolus here in Savannah. One of my favorite flowers on the planet.

Simple Glad Summer Beauty

Marveling at the beauty of the glorious gladiolus here in Savannah. One of my favorite flowers on the planet.

Simple Glad Summer Beauty
“Glorious”

1. Our new salt and pepper grinders!

(It doesn’t take much to make me excitedly happy.)
2. Pretty in purple.


3. The belief that our United States of America is still a democracy, despite the extremists (even seeping into the Supreme Court), who want to declare it — and make it — not so.
4. HR’s (Husband Robert’s) creative culinary expertise. Here’s a recent breakfast bowl …


5. Robert, dogs and me.





May You Have a Happy First Weekend in May!
For some reason, I have always appreciated “the view from behind.” As a child, on the first day of each school year, I was a nervous wreck waiting for the teacher to announce our seating arrangement. Front of the class? 😢 Too much exposure! Far too much responsibility to “be.” A nice, comfy seat toward the back? 😁 Perfect. I get to observe, to “see.” To breathe calmly.
In this blog category, “The View from Behind,” I invite you to join me, somewhere in the back.
************
“If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.”– Buddha

May our world see more flowers today.




Marveling at some of Robert’s get-well flowers.







After Forsyth Park Farmers Market-ing Saturday morning, Robert and I were walking home, minding our own business, when out of the blue, the Universe spoke to me again. (A fairly common occurrence these days.)
“It’s the end of October,” I thought. “Isn’t it a little late for hydrangeas to still be blooming?” But glancing up and down the row of bushes, I noticed that all the other hydrangeas were NOT blooming, except for this LONE, stubborn survivor.
I was mesmerized, the bloom just SO very June fresh.

“It’s rude to stare,” she interrupted my thoughts, a bit offended.
“Sorry, I didn’t meant to stare. But I’m floored to see you here when all of your … your brothers and sisters are … are less than alive.” (My awkward attempt to avoid further rudeness.)
“May I ask why you ARE still here?” I timidly wondered.
Her demeanor shifted, and she smiled the tiniest of smiles.
“I suppose you can, but I’ll let Frost answer for me.”
The woods are lovely dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost

I walked home with lively, renewed fervor in my step.