Last night’s dreams were the most vivid that I’ve had in a long while. It was one of those times when you know you’re dreaming, but you’re also very immersed in the world and letting it thrill you. I went to my garden and found it untouched, the blue gate still hanging a bit crookedly on its post. The moon was full and I was simply there, greeting each little nook and cranny. It’s similar to the dreams I have after a loved one dies–often I’ll spend a long night with them, saying good-bye.
Then when I went out to greet the myriad of rescued garden plants on my porch, I found the first two roses blooming since the move:
And then there was this bright burst of oranger-than-orange saying “good morning:”
what a sweet gift that dream was for you; and what a sweet gift your flower photographs are for us.
Roses are benevolent souls: