Here is the photo and my story…
Standing at the cottage gate and looking out onto the wetlands, just now, I remember how he used to bring me yellow gerber daisies every Friday evening after work.
Perhaps someone else could mark this moment with flamboyant words and happenings but I’m unable to do so.
My dog, Tipper, barks impatiently. She wants to move on. She wants me to open the rusted gate so she can run wild and free. And so I do.
photo via A Storyteller’s Abode