The predominance of blue-mauve flowers in and around the city astonished her, a compelling stream from February to May. Violets, wisteria, iris . . . not forgetting the summer cornflower, which had often been a noble bed for her and a her, in some secluded meadow, in some secluded decade. The blue against a burned umber or ochre wall, the blue against lush grass, against a white linen shirt unbuttoned and splayed, a blue of such staggering intensity, the memory too easy to find in the
intense beauty
