Twenty minutes in the yard. A seat with a view of the setting sun and close enough to the herb garden to enjoy the fragrance of the roses and the lavender. It was perfect.
The ducks talked incessantly, but it was Andy Catlett that I invited to join me. He was perfect company.
Eventually the mosquitoes were able to chase me back inside, but not before the peace of Wendell Berry, the perfume of the lavender, the warmth of the setting sun had penetrated my heart and mind.
Twenty minutes was all it took.
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