This garden was where I planted my first flowers. Where I dug for worms before we went fishing. It was the place where I buried the seeds from my apples in hopes of growing an apple tree. It was where I'd find tiny little holes in the dirt (and if I got lucky I'd find the toad who called that hole it's home, too). The garden was always something beautiful but on that certain rainy afternoon this garden turned into something magical.
It's fascinating how my mother can, almost effortlessly, make this little space so awe inspiring. She has always seemed to have the natural ability to spot the potential beauty in something and then knows just the right way to bring it to life. That quality, as well as many others, is one that I hope never fades away.
To a mother whose beauty far surpasses any flower in her garden- Happy Mother's Day.