I’m leaving you for another, Garden. You have been a faithful and dear partner for 23 years, but I’m ready to start over. May your new gardener (pray the new people are gardeners) love you half as much as I do.
You looked lovely today when I went by to pick up some last things. The light in the witch hazel flowers was beautiful. The asters were still in full purple bloom. The raspberries and blackberries were heavy on the canes.
Goodbye, my first love. Goodbye.
