In another life... I think I would be a farmer. I would have a flower farm with fields and fields of flowers. Edged with lilacs. Mornings spent with coffee in one hand, and trimmers in the other. A basket that I would fill up with flowers settled into the crook of my elbow, while I wandered barefoot. And a house full of vases of all shapes and sizes for arranging all day... Is there anything better than the smell of fresh lilacs? Definitely, no. This bush is one of the four gorgeous and colossal ones outlining my parents property. In the spring you can step out their door and suddenly be intoxicated by the smell of fresh lilacs.
Self Portraits in For Love and Lemons taken late May right when I moved back to Maine for the summer. Before Grandpas diagnosis, before I broke my foot, and before my move west felt so real.
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