Fresh Cut | Making What You've Got, Work
I tuck my clippers into my waistband
And head out.
It's been an intense morning
Middle school Picture Day.
I grab the leash, the dog. The daughter's already in the truck—waiting.
I drop her off and head to the woods.
I let the quiet
The hum
The rhythmic chirps
Wash over me
I'm looking for greens.
Weeds that dance
Buds unwilling to burst
All I see are mushrooms
Everywhere, mushrooms.
Not what I want. I love it anyway.
I head home running through my to-do list.
Friends arrive tomorrow. Make the beds. Vacuum. Definitely vacuum. Take care of the flowers—the heat's not been kind to them.
I get to it—culling, rearranging. A fresh sprig from the yard, I think.
I clip a little Pieris Japonica on my way in. I love the way they droop.
I lay out what I have
Carefully snip away dying leaves
Toss what is done
Take stock of what's left.
I switch to smaller vases
And begin again.
I end up with three bouquets: one by the fire, one in the bathroom, and a tiny one by the bed to greet my friends tomorrow.
UPCOMING EVENTS

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REVERY FOOD


Creating tiny moments of beauty whenever we can,
Sandra & Sarah
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