Isn’t it funny how seemingly random things become connected in our minds?
When I think of marigolds, I always think of a particular cotton summer dress, old fashioned calico strewn across a bed of pale yellow fabric. It had a crinkled bodice and fluttery short sleeves.
I can see it hanging on the clothes line at the house I lived in when I was small and I can feel the sunshine on my cheeks and hear the wind talking to the fields of July grass.
I don’t remember if the dress was mine or my mom’s… I just remember the dress and the summer and a bright blue sky. And of course, I remember the marigolds.
It was probably just a fleeting moment, a mundane experience that I lived a hundred times. Yet, it has stuck with me in vivid detail.
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