Weaving the edges together.
Standing silent in the forest.
Comings and goings between the tides.
A pale version of its darker relatives.
A calming sight in the wetlands.
An old friend in a new place.
A tale of two: delicate cycnia and Indian hemp.
A drift of common periwinkle in the corner of the cove.
The Queen of the Meadow, sparkling above its neighbors.
“The end is where we start…” T.S. Eliot