Dandelions & Mayapples
Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep
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The Seasons Turn on Her Heel
A week or two ago, I'd spotted dandelions and May apples by the creek. They were tiny, only five or six inches tall, but shaped like little umbrellas. As they grew over the summer, the umbrellas would open up, and their leaves would stand out rather than droop down. The static in my head had quieted, replaced by the sound of the creek. Now we would never look at the sky, or add a formation of rock and earth, and think, oh, that's not right.
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