Anyhow, I guess I like to hold on to many small things and these all remind me of how I felt in my parent's yard. I knew each patch of onion grass, where the crabgrass grew and the secret of making little shooting devices out of buckhorn plantain.
Friday evening, I was mowing around the rotting stump of a cigar (Catalpa) tree and I noticed this small wild strawberry growing around the edge.
A good life often gives way to the end of something or someone and that many of the most wonderful things we will ever know are a result of loss. It doesn't erase the pain, but it sure makes this all more than okay.