Duskywing moth on Jerusalem Artichoke



Found the flowers along the railroad tracks on the path up to the mile marker that Elizabeth would swim from.  Found the moth on the flower after cutting a bouquet for our back yard.  It was on the day we buried Scooter's ashes next to Whiskers' grave near the bushes where the catbirds always whined-- just north of the pond on Ackerman Rd.

Many happy swims in the tube on the pond.

1 comment:

  1. That photo to the right, of Elizabeth in the tube, is so lovely and impish.
    Sending you my hopes for peace and healing,
    Claire

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How Dina Aunty relished her memories. Mummy and Daddy were the same, talking about their yesterdays and smiling in that sad-happy way while selecting each picture, each frame from the past, examining it lovingly before it vanished again in the mist. But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be re-created—not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

> From A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry