Lots of mornings, lots of afternoons. It's coming along and it's taking its time and it's foggy and drizzly sometimes.
I went out and I was on my way and I was carrying things both inside and out, and the list clamouring, but I stopped and I stared at the lady's mantle. It's before the show, before the lime green, before the taller stems and before all the things June does.
I saw a May stage, a morning after a rainstorm, with the curves of the leaves all insistent and sassy, being themselves entirely. This stage where the leaves simply catch the water in their hands, and hold it and hold it and hold it.