After Midnight…

This arum, splendid in its isolation as if quarantined by a magic circle into a corner of the front garden, continues to astonish me with a velvety beauty that borders on mysterious oddity.

I’m ready for my close-up… mwah-ha-ha-hah!

And you might suspect it had taken its color cues from this hellebore that I call “Queen of the Night,” although I have no idea if that’s its official name or just my own particular brand of whimsy (and who cares? It suits, don’t you think?)

My daughter will soon be hearing from the colleges to which she applied – yes or no. Needless to say, the stress levels in my household are sufficiently high to power the rooftop solar panels on a cloudy day. She strives for calm, for patience, for perspective, for Ommmmm… but really, who am I kidding? We are all on tenterhooks (just what is a tenterhook, anyway?).

She continues to beat me to the mailbox every afternoon. Yet in a mere two weeks, all the waiting and agonizing will be over. One of the dozen universities that received her application will have the pleasure of her company (and my money) for the next four years – after which, we can only hope, the job market will have improved or – god help us – she’ll want to continue straight into graduate school.

A riot… of violet.

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