Did the first waterlily sunprint this morning. My fascination with waterlilies preceded my awareness of Monet, Claude. In my imagination, my mom Fritzi, Monet, Claude, and I would sit on a stone bench by the lily pond in the Depression era public works Sunken Gardens in Lincoln, Nebraska, munching dry Cheerios and watching dragonflies. Fritzi would have been 88 on her birthday yesterday. Claude died two years before Fritzi was born, but he is still sitting with us in the morning sunshine watching clouds reflected in the lily pond. I'm in the stroller, my Cheerios on its little dashboard tray wearing a little yellow sweater with an appliqued giraffe.
Monet, Claude did not join us those mornings Fritzi and I had Animal Crackers at the old Lincoln Zoo. Sometimes Rousseau, Henri would wander out of the humid zoo stench to distract me while Fritzi cut my fingernails with those roseate spoonbill baby scissors.