I returned home on Palm Sunday to find knockout roses behind my brick mailbox parading their first blossoms of spring.
I found candytuft faded to green, safeguarding scattered sprinkles of white for me to view one more day.
Fallen pink petals from dogwood trees fluttered through a whimsical ballet to entertain me on a ballroom floor of Kentucky bluegrass.
Dogwoods, azalea, and periwinkle are different. Something happened while I was away, while I snapped photographs of starfish captured by the sand when evening tide quickly rolled out to sea.
Blossoms opened as other petals faded and fell. Fresh blossoms flowered and youthful buds now greet the sun. Did you care that I was gone in the midst of your glory to savor other beauties different joys -- did you even miss me?
. . . upon returning from spring vacation to the beach