I worked in my mother’s garden today. Mostly, I pulled out dying groundcover, August-brown, and trimmed the frayed edges off a juniper bush. I also walked through a massive spiderweb and would’ve gotten, if not for my hat, a more intimate acquaintance with the spider than I would’ve wished.
Towards the end, my mother called me over to the hedge she’d been trimming. There have been some wild turkeys coming to visit her house this summer. A mother passed by with a string of little fluffy chicks in tow. At some point, one of them left a feather behind. She pulled it out of the hedge, ragged and bleached in places, the dark pigment along the quill rubbed off. I took this picture in her dining room, which, as you will notice, is painted a glorious shade of purple.