The September gardens are lusty with oranges and reds, the burning bush, the amur maple. There—the brilliant yellow of the Katsura tree. Hydrangea tall as a man—blue, purple, white. Behind me, swaths of boltonia floating like a veil on deep green foliage. Asters, berries, mums. Great grasses everywhere—striped and spotted. I am lost on the pathway, pulled from color to color, from blossom to sweet, impossible blossom.
(Prints of some images available here. Use code WORDPRESS10 for 10% off your order.)