In the garden, after the April rains, Marty bent her head to whisper encouragement to her one drooping trout lily. She apologized to her struggling tea roses for planting them in the wrong place. She lamented how few trilliums she had left and tried to make her daffodils stand up straighter. She swore at the lily-of-the-valleys now spiking out of the earth, volunteers she had been warring with for years. And she greeted the crocuses like long lost friends. It was not a neat garden—more slap dash than thoughtful aesthetic—but it was all hers.
Inspired by Spring—at last! Photo of trilliums by Nancy Kay Clark.
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