It begins with flowers out front.
Earlier this summer, the King snuck the kids to visit the home of a lovely Holt couple with brilliant green thumbs.
The knockout roses demanded attention. None of the half-hearted blooms you find in my untended yard.
"Flower faces", we call them.
Because-- what else?
Gnome wanders among snapdragons.
I remember the childhood feeling of being dwarfed by plants. Wandering through paths which grew like whorls in the bark of an old oak tree. Nature's natural lines are curvy, as, perhaps, ours should be.
Lettuce and maples and wonder.
The pond.
Lilypads... and koi hiding underneath.
Roses hold the dew like cheeks hold childhood's tears.
A testament to what can be done in a tiny yard.
I admire this couple so much for what they made after the tornado's wreckage. What they cultivated and tended despite the damage. So many days when I wish I had a green thumb- or, at least, the persistence and dedication to put a garden higher on the list of things to honor in life.
The Eldest came home with a tiny stalk of a crown of thorns plant which has developed into a happy, boisterous, multi-stalk crown of thorns sitting beside our front door. Every time he waters it, I think of how our lives have been enriched with blossoms handed along by others. I will always be grateful for these small gifts that grow into something bigger.
