August 7, 2020

there is something about dreamy contentment that makes one lose the desire — or need — to write: harriet in thrones, domination. one indulges in dormice escapes, dreaming instead about unbuilt dormer windows, and little alcoves, and bedframes, and kitchen tables and cascades and gorges (being narrow steep-sided valleys, formed by the upstream retreat of a waterfall,) and of cabins, and roving deer that ravish young apple trees, and growing hope, of planting peonies around a hillside home when summer comes, self-renewing as affection, season by season.

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spcountdown “Sunflowers, tall as cherry trees, wave in the wind next to garlic, enormous leaves of kale, basil, hot peppers, plump tomatoes, hops, and pawpaws.

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spgentler sarang euphoria is a different creature; this is a sweeter, more restrained happiness that nuzzles at you softly and carefully. <div