Such an awful moment, when a recent vacation begins to drift off into the mists of long ago and far away. Only a couple weeks ago, but the travel mojo you came home with is already smothered under to-do lists.
Time to get out all the miscellaneous photos and attempt to recapture that feeling of wandering around a great garden as nothing more than a conduit for gorgeous sensations of pattern, shape, color. Isn’t that what gardens, great or small, do? Conduits are incapable of making to-do lists. Plant lists, yes, to-do lists, no. (Begging your pardon, Mr. Isherwood, but if you are a camera, I am a conduit. Or used to be, now on hiatus.)