I was staring out the front window this afternoon, dissociating in between work calls, when I noticed this little blotch of color in the mulch. I slid on my boots and went out front. It was gray, cold, and had just stopped snowing, and amidst all that gloom was this little bluish purple hyacinth.
The little flower seemed to me like it was leaning in towards the garden light, but to what end? Attacking, leaning in for a smooch, or perhaps trying to take shelter under the light? Couldn’t decide then, still can’t decide now. And I think I prefer it that way.
READING: THE HOBBIT, J.R.R. Tolkien
LISTENING: THE GREAT SATAN, Rob Zombie