A schematic of passion reveals nothing clearly. My mothers, sisters, and in-laws are drop-jawed for the natural world, unfurling atlases and mapping possible solutions
to their ongoing state of gridlocked wanderlust. They run, bike, hike, and read stories about inimitable human feats. They race farther than I’d choose to drive on an afternoon cruise.
Early blue lavender (Munstead) and air cannons over grain fields / (the pheasant, visiting us regularly now, startles in the hedges) // Rosemary flowers like minuscule orchids (and insects see how to go). . . .
Menu 
