I love when it rains. There’s something about inhaling the clean air, pondering the metaphor of renewal, and the practicality of knowing I don’t have to water the garden. As an added bonus, after the rain I pick all the downed flowers for an inside bouquet.

This morning, three beautiful pink dahlias lay in the mulch, their stems snapped by the high winds during the night. I brought them in and marveled at how different, and how spectacular, each bloom is. Three perfect dahlias.