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By Y. Hope Osborn
Cool Evenings
You taste cool evenings under shade trees as you crush thin, oval leaves like petals between your teeth. Your tongue encounters something fresh and new, tingling truer than any mint gum or mouthwash. Mints are the wares of perennial, year-after-year, summers.
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Your Secret
Your Eden holds many more delights—some secret to yourself and some shared with others. After winter passes, spring settles over your hope in an array of plants, some awakened like Rip Van Winkle and some newly planted like an infant at nursery.
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