Blooming

All of spring was a drawn-out birthday. Spears of green shot skyward in the flower beds and unfolded their mystery from week to week, the forsythia exploded in yellow confetti, and the old-fashioned roses bloomed, spreading a heady scent through the breezes.

No city shop can compare to sending children outside with a pair of shears and having them return with color.

Thank you, Grandma, thank you, Mrs. Dingman, and thank you, Aunt Alice, for planting presents we're still opening years later.