Wednesday, June 16, 2004


At the end of my driveway grows a sprawling honeysuckle bush that now, at the vanguard of summer, flowers with its beautiful yellow and white blossoms whose soft, sweet scent wafts through the air at dusk and makes one stop for a moment and breathe in what feels like the essence of the season. The honeysuckles seem to glow in the fading light, and I experience a sensation of time having flown backwards.

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