The porch has started expecting me around sunset. The kettle whistles. The lantern is lit. The same blanket finds the same chair. Smokey inspects the steps before declaring them acceptable for sitting. And together we wander out to the old garden gate to see if the moonflowers have decided tonight is the night. Not yet….
Earlier this week, Maeve discovered what she dramatically described as “an old threshold waiting to be reopened.” This is, in ordinary language, a gate. For the sake of thorough reporting, I have monitored the situation closely from the porch, the garden bench, and one highly strategic patch of shade beside the lavender. My findings are…
While deciding where to plant a forgotten packet of seeds, Maeve discovers an old garden gate hidden behind the honeysuckle and begins wondering what quiet things are ready to open again.
