The lilac tree has become my unexpected friend. She sits quietly in the side yard, a lady in raiment at rest. I smell her sweet perfume drifting on the springtime air. Even when I cannot see her, she lets me know she is there. We had a lilac tree at our house growing up, and one now sits in my mother’s garden. Sisters together, though divided, reunited in memory. I wonder if the lilac tree has followed me here, trailing my life with purple flowers. Only to stop, waiting for me, to tell me that I am finally home.
Hello friends,
After my letter last week, I wanted to share a more uplifting reminiscence of spring. This little poem came to me three years ago, shortly after we moved into our new house. Our lilac tree is massive, tucked against the fence on one side. Once again, she’s in glorious bloom.
I stood underneath the branches the other day and watched the sunlight filter through the leaves. With the petals raining down on my hair, it felt like being in a fairy garden. The older I get, the more I appreciate the magic of spring—that dreamy sense of a world just waking up. Everything feels tender and possible.
Thank you for reading (and listening),
Book News & Project Updates
Line edits are DONE! After over 150+ hours of work, my sister and I have turned in our revised manuscript to our agent. We’ll be going on submission next week (cue me hyperventilating) and then it’s the long waiting game to see if the book will sell to a publisher.
I’m simultaneously so relieved to have a break and terrified that the novel’s future is now completely out of my control. My little book baby is in the hands of the gods.
I’ve been hyper-fixating on this project for so long that my brain doesn’t know what to do now that I’m done. I feel like a hamster on a wheel that’s suddenly stopped spinning. Last weekend I got the wild notion to try making a caraco jacket for a rococo photoshoot I’ll be attending in September—for the record, I have never sewn anything more complicated than a gnome hat, so this idea is beyond ambitious and approaching delusional.
But hey, what’s life without a challenge?
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purple kisses home