This morning I woke early from a sweet, emotionally enlightening dream:

I was at a retreat of sorts, with friends, with a tribe, and Bob Dylan turned up, and the next morning, before we were all to part from the gathering, he was cradling me in his arms, he'd come with a message and chosen me, as if we were old friends, and, although it felt personal, I saw that it was a spiritual message for everyone present, and carried the weight of his artistic authority. He was sharing for me, but through me too: All losses will be restored is what he said, and I knew this to be so.

I had already picked my daily blooms this morning (photographed them, I mean), and I was working on my egg essay, quite productively, when this sweet and fiery solstice chant dropped into my e-mail via poet Annie Finch's blog, and I let her words shine into the bloom of my work. 

All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2018 unless otherwise attributed.