i smell my grandmother in the mornings of june.
a mixture of eucerine and toast
with a little bit of coffee mixed in.
and the blooming happy flowers brought to my nose
by a gentle southern california beachy breeze.

it is on the
gloomy
overcast
misty
mornings
that really bring those smells out.

and i still pinch myself
that i get to live in the same state
that i visited my gram in
each and every june since i was seven.

i also take great delight in
the fact that we have nearly identical
washing machines.

i relish in this time of year, especially.
or maybe it is just the birds chirping
the way that they do.
that might be it.

dear summer mama,
when do you think?
when do you plan?
when do you prepare?
when do you make time to wash your hair?
asking for a friend.
xo,
hill

sometimes it takes something really big about to change
to realize how good your life was.
and is.
and will be.
and then you savor it
and then the rain falls.
hands wide open.