Acorns and honeysuckle

ruby honeysuckle blooms

They bicker like a couple of old magpies, harping at each other over their back fence.

Myrtle fusses over her Corgi, Angus, eating the acorns that drop from Hester’s white oak tree, and Hester complains about the syrupy blooms from Myrtle’s ruby honeysuckle vines staining her white patio chairs a neon pink.

On cold days, they don their Woolrich duffle coats and headscarves, and continue their spat over hot cups of oolong.

More alike than different, they each say the other is a troublesome bitty. When in reality, they wouldn’t know what to do if they didn’t’ have one another.

Cold
twowordtuesday
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I believe all good fiction includes an element of truth, and all good photography includes an element of fantasy. In this journal I hope to give voice to the stories swirling around in my head, and to capture the images I see through my camera’s lens.

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