once
I spent the night at howard finster's paradise garden.
the little rental cottage across the street granted us full twenty-four hour access to the garden so of course we wandered the grounds during magic hour and then during blue hour and then late at night, simply because we could. twin tabby cats slipped in and out of shadows as we walked, string lights hung from the eaves like jewelry but the real prize was the garden by moonlight.
all we could see, could not see, maybe did not want to see, is what I woke up thinking about the next morning.