The juniper bushes are thick and fragrant with their small odd berries which are smoky on the outside when I try to rub them. Hard and purple, their sheen is a periwinkle musky grey that comes off with a little effort.
There's about a thousand rabbits hiding in there, and more on the way, just give them a week.
My radiating sunshine was forever telling me the truths about wildlife.
I stood on the front porch, not going anywhere.
It reminds me of the time I stood by the Irises, their dark purple penetrating my retina on a day when it was eighty six degrees. I was about six, standing out there in the culdesac.
Of course, many years later, I have to remember not to confuse Iris with Isis.
