Visiting my parents’ graves at Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery is always a poignant experience. The serene atmosphere, punctuated by the occasional rustling of leaves, provides a sense of peace. Sometimes, I’ll pause to watch the deer gracefully wander through the rows of headstones, their presence a reminder of the delicate balance between honoring the past and respecting the natural world that surrounds us.
May on Mark Twain Lake brings a symphony of sights and sounds. As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple, the chorus of cicadas swells. Their rhythmic buzzing fills the air, a vibrant counterpoint to the tranquility of the lake. It’s a sensory feast, a time to savor the beauty of nature in full bloom.
Old barns, weathered and worn, stand as silent sentinels against the vast canvas of the night sky. Their silhouettes, etched against the twinkling stars, evoke a sense of timelessness and a connection to the past. Each creak and groan of the aging wood whispers tales of bygone eras, of harvests gathered and storms weathered. Under the watchful gaze of the heavens, these rustic structures become symbols of resilience and the enduring spirit of the land.
The scent of a bearded iris is a captivating blend of earthy and floral notes. It’s often described as powdery, with hints of violets and a subtle sweetness reminiscent of root beer. The fragrance can vary slightly depending on the specific cultivar, but most bearded irises possess a delicate and alluring aroma that adds a touch of magic to the garden.