Fog at the Lighthouse

A soft morning, giving way to a lovely warm day. D, our miracle-working gardener, dug out a stubborn clump of unwanted bulbs to make room for the charming pink rose that’s been sitting in a pot out back, waiting for its forever home. We’re housecleaning, one bed at a time, finally daring to remove plants that don’t, as they say in the closet industry, spark joy.