Yes, one of the other things I love about visiting my parents’ home is the garden. When I was in high school, I had to spend my summer mornings weeding the extensive expanse of landscaping. Now that I am just an occasional guest, I can sit back and enjoy the flowers in a less intimate and grueling way.
Truly, there isn’t much else to be said of these pictures. These are the flowers and trees that I had romantic delusions of nurturing every evening when we were moving in—and quickly realized that my calling was not to be some fairy tail princess in hicksville but some book worm instead. Despite how easy it would have been, I rarely stopped to smell the flowers. It’s gotten me where I am today…back home…smelling flowers.