'Fine'

Not every piece announces itself. This one arrives quietly and asks you to lean in. Northern Bluestar with its pale lavender-silver dust. Quince, which blooms before the leaves come and before almost anything else is paying attention. Peppermint balsam, which smells like a memory before you can name it. Elderberry, in its darkest, smallest form, like punctuation in a sentence you did not expect to be so beautiful.

The pink background is not precious. It is precise. It lets each botanical read as itself — which is the point. This is a piece for someone who has developed an eye. Fine does not shout. It rewards.

For the one who prefers to be the only one in the room who notices it.