what comes next?

This is my first summer in Massachusetts. Last year, I left on the 1st of June. The leaving really hit me one day on the sidewalk, in front of my favorite neighborhood garden. The perfectly round peony buds were showing a little more pink each time I passed them. Loosening, day after day.  

... but then it was back to Portland, when everything was just about to really begin. Tyler sent me that bottom picture, of the blossoming peonies that I'd be watching so expectantly. 

This season here has been a quiet one for me - a daily routine of writing and working. Around 10:30 everyday I walk into my bedroom and turn on the tiny air conditioner that I jankily installed in my window (a pair of old leggings are tucked into the window frame for a little insulation.) I open the document marked "thesis" and I spend a few hours typing and deleting. Usually I only have a few new paragraphs in front of me by the time I stand up at 3:00.

Then I venture out into the damp damp heat. The underside of my hair never seems to dry. And between 5:00 and 10:00pm you can find me hostessing on a brewery patio - either handling a waitlist or restlessly rolling silverware. 

The real excitement has been watching the peonies open, and then become heavy with their own weight. I've seen them each day on my way to work. Right now they're mostly wilted and the petals are smeared on the sidewalk.  

Now what? 

It's that question that keeps me present. It keeps me looking.