the stone chimney
the birch house overlooking our lake
and the old stone staircase that seems as if it grew out of the ground (you'll fall on your ass going down, but it's so worth it)
clouds over the water ("chiaroscuro" has become a cliche in our family)
Hedgehog, who wanted to "set something loose," launching her plastic boat with a dandelion for a figurehead
And my mom's house, an ongoing work-in-progress, an art project, all its many corners filled with odd tableaux, remnants of all the childhoods, and all the other houses and lives, geegaws and doodads precious and irrelevant, one still life or a hundred. Hedgehog wandered in fascination through the rooms; a winter away made her forget the place, and she was amazed once again at the treasures everywhere
When the lid came off this hatbox, there was a faint breath of perfume stirring from the fancy feathers
Hedgehog played an impromptu. "What do you think this piece is called, Mama?" "I couldn't guess." "Deer and elm!"