Chelsea and I go outside first thing in the morning,
and I'm wont to begin each by looking up.
This pecan tree has become a touchstone
of sorts, its growth measuring
the spending of my days.
Standing still beneath
I listen as it
comes to life.
Such a stark contrast
blue skies and rain.
Well played, God.
My Nana was a charter member of the National Home Gardening Club.
I never knew that.
I've never seen her flowers as less than the whole,
never noticed the individuality or amazing variety
or intentionally orchestrated placement.