The day after the wedding as the sun sunk low in the sky, my mother, daughters and my sister's dearest friend, Kate, journeyed back to the site of the wedding. The land was rich with the energy of the day before and we wandered the fields toward dusk. But before we went wandering there was work to do, a gathering and dismantling of the remnants left behind. Clusters of tiny vases, silver and glass, porcelain and wood, were flocked outside the barn doors. We spent a good hour at play, disassembling arrangements and rearranging them in the grass, strewn over each others' bodies, tossed in the air to see where they fell. Somehow I cajoled one of my daughters into playing the role of an ethereal nymph, and Kate gamely obliged my request as well. I can't even begin to explain how powerful these remains of the day before were. They held a bewitching energy beyond any words I might share with you. I organized and repositioned, strategized on how to coax the right expression from the lovely creatures captivated amongst these petals and stamen. And some how the magic of these blooms seemed to vibrate and we were hooked. For days afterward I offered ice cream and adventures to my daughters and niece in exchange for their playing along and wandering into flower land with me. I think each of us found something to savor as we dreamed our way into a surreal world of botanics.