We've had a run of warm days, lucky this early when it could easily drizzle until July 5th. Walking home from work I stopped and inhaled every iris blooming alongside my path. And the lake tonight was ruckled-up, foretelling a shift into slightly cooler days. It's difficult in times like this to imagine the world as anything other than benign.
Still, two blocks away yesterday there was an armed robbery at a children's-clothing consignment shop. I'm obviously missing something here — is that where all the big money is? The cash? Some damn stupid punks, I'd guess.
It's hard to settle down in the evening when everything is so flung-open. The desire is to stay outside until the last possible moment, but not, it seems, recumbent in my hammock, which gave way tonight, dumping me into pineapple mint. I sheared off two fingernails in the spill, limped inside to ice and band-aids.
And then: heliotrope, a single plant plucked from the rows and rows of screaming petunias at Lowe's.
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