Sunday, June 5, 2011
The tiny garden on Henry Street, where a lady sits in an easy chair in the appropriately named - in this rare case - garden apartment, which sounds better than basement apartment, beside a reading lamp. In my version of her story this is her garden and her family lives upstairs. I have never seen anyone garden here. Perhaps she does, very early in the morning. There is always something in bloom.
What is this lily?