A clipped, dried hydrangea flower.
A paint bucket full of dried white hydrangea flowers.
An artifact from a former life.
I clipped and dried a few dozen mostly out of pride in August 2005 and, after learning that October wind would carry them from my porch, kept the remaining flowers in the attic. They were the one thing I wanted to bring along to Lawrenceville from the previous place in Oakland. But they couldn't come with me to NYC.