These flowers. Every fall when they come I remember. I remember the first time we stepped foot on this place. 1989. This time of year. The fields had not been mown for a year or two. And these asters were every.where.
Oh we were so young. Married only two months. The creeks, I still remember how they flowed then, the twists, turns, pools, riffles. The road before we changed it. The dreams the hopes the plans. Lawd we had balls with what all we thought we could do. And we did a good bit of it too.
And changed some of it and failed at some of it and changed more of it. Learned. Grew. Withered. Forgot. Changed. What is that chant? "She changes everything she touches and everything she touches changes." Land, time, nature, life, relationships do that.
And yet there is a core. A kernel. The piece of sand at the center of the pearl.
And these flowers remind me of that.