Before cutting the lawn this weekend I went picking buttercups. I have childhood memories filled with searching for the flowers, picking the blooms, and holding them under my playmates' chins. Such a soft, buttery glow.
Wild and leggy, they are gathered loosely in a glass jar on the bathroom vanity with blooms going every which-way. They make me happy.
1 comment:
This post reminds me of one of my favorite Emerson quotes:
"Beauty breaks in everywhere."
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