Hot everywhere and everyone is talking about it. July all fiery and flaming so much so that you are in a mental daze moving in slow-mo from shady spot to water on repeat. Unless of course you can’t, in which case you are stumbling along on these dog days of summer. We are desperate to think clearly but have to admit defeat in this heat.
Flowers are drawing all my senses. Like bees to nectar. Like hummingbirds to color. Like butterflies to sweet-smells. Flowers are slaying me over and over on the daily.
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet.” Shakespeare’s Juliet was right, neither her love nor the season of flowers depend on a name, but oh my goodness these last days of May is extraordinarily sweet. I invite you to scroll through this post and linger over each botanical image. You will be elevated. You might even be inclined to find your own blooming spring beyond your doorway.
Nine Cent Girl 