It started sometime after the pandemic became pedestrian. Circa July 2020, a new, gnawing, unshuttupable hunger took hold. I needed sunflowers.
“Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful.” – Annette Funicello “Excellence I can reach for; perfection is God’s business.” – Michael J. Fox “Amen to all that.” – Sunflower and Olivia Rosenberg
You gave us wonder and splendor. You gave us the return of Bill and Ted (see above). You gave us the feast day of St. Augustine, and the annual pondering as to whether or not his friends called him “Gus.” You gave us an uncommonly high volume of marmalade cats.
Late have I loved you, unrelenting autumn. But this year, even when it’s hard to fare forward, there’s a certain comfort in being able to fall into your arms.
Oh August, sweet little August, you are young yet, and tender. Yet as you grow, we have a request for you. On behalf of every individual of every species on every continent, subcontinent and islet: please be kind.
Here’s something worth thinking about. If you meet someone named Gus, is it short for August, Augustine, Augustus, or Asparagus?
Let it never be said that May is monotone. Stuff went down this past month, kittens. Billy Ray Cyrus returned to the radio, achy-breaking all of our ears if not our spirits. The President of the United States of America presented a very large trophy to a very large man at the Grand Sumo tournament. […]