the blue muse

Green blue and purple, red white and blue.

There have been a lot of grey skies this year, lots of rain for the garden, the swamp down the road is filling back up. Every year, I am reminded of the cycles, the circles, the patterns, and yet, every year, I see something new.

Every year, we complain about the heat or the cold or the drought or the rain, because it’s human nature to complain about the weather.

My basement has been wet for a month, but my garden is a pastiche of color. Everything is twice as high as last year. It looks, and feels, like a jungle. So I ignore the mess and breathe in the flowers.

Perfection fell by the wayside a long time ago. (And I was happy to let it go.)

I live in a beautiful mess.

Life.

With flowers.

It’s hard to complain about that.

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Wishing you a lovely, lively Independence Day.