Today is the tenth birthday of Luci, my youngest goddaughter. I couldn’t be more grateful to her parents Melina and Kurt Vanderpile for bringing such a radiant person into the world, and for allowing me in some small way to help facilitate her growth. She is one of the most loving and sweet-hearted humans I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing: What other child frequently and voluntarily sends hand-made cards via snail mail to her godmother? She is also one of the funniest. Just look at her romantically cradling this cannoli! (Also please note the cannoli on her nose. It’s a small but characteristically waggish touch.)
I keep wanting to write more but the peonies are abloom and I’m so immersed in their big color and fragrance that I don’t have the distance required for narration. A friend says that’s a good thing and I think she’s right. May’s soul time, all-at-once time, let-it-grow time. Chairos not chronos. Reception not reflection. I’m rhapsodically in love with everything, including you. But rather than say more I’ll just go to sleep to rise again with the birds. By my bed are vases of the deepest pink peonies to bathe my dreams. I’ll send you some, via carrier doves and a bedazzled tesseract. Don’t be surprised if you smell fuchsia when you wake.