If you lived in Los Angeles you would want to go walking under the moonlight and breathe in the heady night air. The fragrance at night and early morning in the northern part of the city is sweet and strong. If you lived here you would want to open a window and let the scent inside. And like me, you would want to know the name of the trees that turn into perfume factories here in the late winter. For nearly 20 years their name has eluded me. I admire their secrecy. Information these days is sometimes too easily captured.
The travel journal is being built from the ground up.
Envelopes are being made.
Small pockets and tucked-in pages. Security envelopes have their role and fill it well.
And this farmhouse couple from South Dakota have agreed to accompany me on my journey to the Mediterranean. They’ve never been and always wanted to go. I’m pleased to take them.
What would a post be lately without a flower to light the way? Geranium. Good, stalwart friend of the garden.