Growing up, I felt as though I lived in the best possible neighborhood. Of course times were different then, people were more agreeable, less likely to openly quarrel. There was one particular neighbor lady who was the very essence of grace. The family lived diagonally across the country square mile from us.
After Neva and then Russell died, a granddaughter and her family moved there. I don't remember now the reason, but one day I stopped to talk to Diane. She was working in the yard and commented that they planned to change the plantings on the north side of the house. I asked if I could have a start of the ferns they were going to dig out. "Of course!" she said.
So, for several years, they grew on the north side of our trailer on the farm. When we moved to Creston, Neva's ferns made the transplantation with us. Here they are doing well and starting to spread some along the north side of our house - along with Grandma's Lily of the Valley, Ruthie's Columbine and Kari's Snow-on-the-Mountain.
I love being able to look at these transplants and remember the people and places they came from.
Lately I've been admiring the photographs of a woman I follow on Instagram. She's been sharing some amazing photos of fiddle head ferns unfolding. That was my impetus for these photos I took this morning. Obviously, I would need a different camera or, at least, camera lens. If I zoomed as close to the opening heads as I want to, the pictures would be blurred. Ah, well.
Meanwhile, on the south side of the house, the Fern Leaf Peony is in bloom. Grandma Ridnour had these in her flower beds. However, I didn't transplant one of hers, this one was already here when we moved in. They are beautiful, the blossoms just don't last long.
I found a spot where I could get some photos and a couple sprigs of Lilacs.
They are the quintessential springtime bouquet - and their fragrance is lovely.
Have I mentioned how much I love Spring?
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