There’s a tangle on the fence at the bottom of the garden. Wisteria, Jasmine and ivy jostle for their time in the sun. When the spring growth starts the Wisteria wins.
Wandering to the bottom of the garden, where the bee’s rule, I ask may I borrow the Wisteria. To make it live fourty-four thousand days.
These are my offerings. Trying to capture their wonderful mystery as they dance in the wind. I’ll try again next spring, if the bees allow.