The older I get, the more particular flowers trigger memories. There are flowers I loved as a little girl. Their scents and shapes remind me how I reveled in their existence as much as my own. There are flowers that grew at my grandparents’ houses. And my great-grandparents’ houses. And there are flowers that I will remember when I’m old. Those my mother grew, or I grew myself or shared with my children. The flowers will always return and the memories are ours to keep: it’s just that moment of recognition – putting it all together – that we so often miss.


166/365: clematis

08.13.13 beanstalk

We tried growing these lovely vining beans last year without success. I’m pretty sure the squirrels dug up the seeds. So when I spied this one growing along the back fence, twisting through our neighbors’ garden, I had to wonder if it was a carryover from last year. I like to imagine that the squirrels dropped this one seed from high up in the elm tree giving us all a welcome surprise this summer.

blog081313_scarletrunnerbean225/365: scarlet runner beans