People ask that, sometimes silently.

Picture this then, a clear May evening, the fragrance of lilacs and viburnums, watching the sun sink over the western hills and the emerald field, the pure white violets and apple blossoms, the glowing pink, purples and golds of myriad redbuds, azaleas, tulips, and a host of others. and faintly on the sweet breeze the notes of Chopin’s nocturnes.

Or perhaps it is early morning, beneath the towering spruces, oaks, and maples where the white trillium shimmers, the pure white of living marble and the vinca forms a dark green carpet studded by ferns.

Next month will be something different and the one after that.

But always, the house, quiet and cool, with its books and unknown corners.

That is Esperanza.