Towering cannas and cleomes wave over the empty sidewalks.
Throw seven foot shadows pointing the way to the dentist as I wander Bryn Mawr in the morning light.
I can hardly contain myself — the connection to this neighborhood, the deep memories — and yes, the long shadows.
A picturesque existence in a Christmas card perfect bungalow. Planting gardens and dreaming. Writing and refinishing. Preparing.
But not for him.
And so, we left by way of the shadows. The beginning of a truly wretched ending.
This morning, this place, brings me utter joy.
Makes me smile with my whole body. And ask —
Is this not amazing grace?
That giant leaves and brilliant blooms way over my head have the power to delete disappointment and vanish the stain of suffering?
Truth and beauty —