I will remember always the sun setting low, pure sweetness drifting by, a hedgerow of sweet peas. In every color and pattern we clipped and inhaled, strolled and laughed, bundled and breathed, my mom and my sister and I. It doesn’t get better than this.
Even the one, yes one, solitary, mauve sweet pea which bloomed in my yard this year renews the loveliness of this memory. I am also glad for the many scattered bouquets and just opened blossoms greeting me as my sister’s guest.