Flowers flowers, all the days.
I'm not sure how I prefer them...
Fresh or dried?
I love them both.
They are so beautiful at every stage.
Turning into paper specimens as they age.
When they begin to droop, I await the drying magic.
Time turning them into treasures to hold for endless days.
Beautiful beautiful gifts of nature.
I don't even mind satin ones in a pinch.
And then there is the lass, who I could not bear to leave behind.
She loves me, she loves me not...
Leaning in an old antique store.
I drove an hour away.
I added one or two tea cups to the cabinet as I thought of her.
Like lovely dried flowers.
Not fresh and new.
But wonderfully perfect in their imperfection.
And so I got into my car moments after arriving.
Heading back one hour from where I had been an hour before.
What a mad thing I'd say.
Arriving at the antique shop with only 5 minutes store closing time to spare.
I knew in a day or two, for certain she would not be there.
Who she is, what is her story?
I'll never know.
Why she intrigued and bewitched me, I'm unsure.
The tag said 1800's painting.
That's all I know.
I wonder what her name is.
Do you know?
She sits by a big wooden bowl of drying flowers.
Dried flowers as art is what we should say.
All these silly little thoughts rambling in a flutter.
I am mad tea plotting and planning.
Thank you to those who have jumped in.
I'll keep adding folks every few days.
See you soon.
ps: I am currently watching Penny Dreadful, oh my. Have you seen it?
Perfect fall weather kind of series, scary and very very dark but intriguing all at once.
I am quite taken by the brilliant acting. The characters are taking it so seriously, which makes it all more enticing and realistic, which isn't so easy to do with scary tales as such.
I know I'm late to the party with this one, but I'm not a series kind of person, so I'm quite surprised I've stuck this one out several episodes.