Every time something green breaks through the soil and blooms in my garden I am held in awe that anything can actually grow there, and I am reminded of my mom and the blood and sweat that she tills into the soil of her gardens every year. While I may not put into practice even a quarter of the things Mom does, I will never forget the times she walks me through her gardens, naming her plants in Latin, talking about how high they get where the temperature is warmer, and inevitably getting her fingernails dirty scratching around some poor seedling choked with a day's growth of weeds.
This little crocus batch has come up reliably every spring so that I know where to look for the striped, grass-like leaves as the snow melts. I didn't plant them, and I don't weed around them, but like my mom and her gardens, they persevere and they thrive. The best thing I can do is take pictures of them and share them here for you as a virtual bouquet.
Mom, I hope your anniversary of another complete tour around the sun is easy, sun-filled, and one that brings you nice things all day. I love you!
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