Working backwards through the day, in Cambridge, tonight, on my way to my writing group, arriving early, and carrying my essay I walk the neighborhood in the early evening light. Three blue clay pots, three fresh and lively flowers, that make me want to perch on this street from this window like a bold red geranium and be a city dweller.

Passing house after house on these residential streets, the care that's taken to plant and care so much for flowers, making little gardens, happy arrangements thriving everywhere. The temperature is mild, I could walk all night, except it's time to go indoors and meet my writing friends, talk poetry and prose. 

Early this morning, my daughter walks with me. Straight to Lady Slipper row, and here she spots a first bloom on a slipper. Spontaneous, wild, unplanned, unintended and determined, wildflowers will always, always be my favorite, growing at home in the woods by happy accident.

All photos and text ©Kelly DuMar 2018