they used to be lawns

by uzwi

Aqualegia, lily of the valley, ground ivy, rain. I don’t know how to describe everything. There is frankly no way this can be a photograph. It’s always a forgery of some kind before it starts: hard cameras on soft earth, light reflected off the English ghost story. Brand new rose-leaves a frail iridescent pink. Never try to describe a wet garden before breakfast. You will only regret not being called Elizabeth: “…they used to be lawns but have long since blossomed into meadows.”