I opened the kitchen door this morning and was greeted by a honeyed fragrance; a flower on my potted lemon tree must have unfurled as the sun rose, because it wasn't there yesterday. What a beautiful scent--amazing that one small blossom could so suffuse a room. And looking at those crisp white petals I can almost taste the tang of lemon that will soon begin to swell from the tip.
Outside the window, a cardinal was visiting, and the sun burnished her tiara of feathers. And that bill! The female cardinals are my favorites; they have such understated elegance. I couldn't find her mate, but know he is nearby, as cardinals seem always to travel in pairs.
Quiet mourning. Grief bubbles up, spills over, goes silent. I am grateful for small visitations of beauty.