This evening we sat on the porch and watched the sky move. This is the only place I've lived where at sunset the sun drops below the clouds and the day is brilliant for one last hour. The clouds were round, spilled marshmallows on a blue cloth.
There are orange mums and violas in the pots along with the last of my herbs. The ginger mint too is brilliant against the brown glaze of the pot and the matte surface of the soil. The rue sprouts new leaves.
I admire what persists.