Good Grief 51

This was taken on 17th June. They were given to me by my dear friend from her garden. I wanted to look at them today. I wanted to look at their beauty and to try to hold on to some sense of the love which came with them. Otherwise I am paralysed.

Later - I have just sat in the garden for a while. Sat in the bright sun with a coffee as a flock of 3 (can 3 be a flock?) long tailed tits flew in briefly on their busy way, they charmed and flitted on. I heard a couple of confused geese arriving and thought of  Mary Oliver, they are coming over in dribs and drabs now ... a soon-to-be-flock and call of autumn. I worried about my late sowing of nasturtiums who will have little chance of flowering now. I hung out my washing and it just hung there. I noticed plenty of black fly trapped in webs along the line for the blue tits to nibble at so left them rather than wipe the line clean for my washing. It seems to be astonishingly quiet and peaceful. I feel as though I am in a pure white ante room where everything is just as it is. And I am beset by sorrow. And the pain of living is just that.
It is what it is.