Tonight I creeped into my neighbor’s yard to sneak some photos of her beautiful garden.
(Who am I kidding. She’s used to it. She usually waves out her kitchen window.)
I’m in awe of her garden not only because it’s gorgeous, but because it’s thrived in spite of having to endure the hottest, driest, most brutal summer I can remember. Obviously the plants were lovingly nurtured by a committed gardener, but no one could do anything about those temperatures. So these represent little miracles to me.
While I’m loving my neighbor’s garden at the height of maturity, our kitties are checking out the birds that seem to be fidgeting and fussing outside our windows a lot more lately.