In which The Gay Recluse enjoys shade plants.

Recently we were reminded of a past obsession.

There was a part of us that missed being young, filled with longing, even if — as we knew at the time — what we wanted was unattainable.

But the greater part of us was relieved not to be possessed, or constrained, by this former obsession.

It was also painful to think of what had ensued.

But also rewarding, in a way.

At this moment our life seemed very much like our garden, where some of the loveliest flowers bloom late in the season, and only in the shade.