Florence’s family has been gracious enough to let me crawl around her house and take some photos before her things are distributed among the family or put up for auction. Her bottles whisper of her life, her time, a different past. Nostalgia is a trap, I think,yet Florence’s spirit speaks to me of rural life, of the country, of independence and affection and a passion for life. I think I would be happy to take medications in bottles like this. I appreciate her family and the country. People are not drowning in fear and suspicion, generous and open. I am different from them, yet they get me and what I want to do. That is precious.