My Mom loved the outdoors. During the last few months she even slept in her recliner on the front porch. She loved to listen to the frogs, crickets, and especially the owls.
She loved nature. She loved it most the way it naturally was, our crooked gravel driveway, the moss on rocks, the lichen on trees, the tree branch that bows just right to form an arch under which to walk.
She had a compost pile once. Imagine her happiness when potatoes started growing around the pile! She would have loved this, whatever it is:
She wasn't one for tidy garden plots and potted plants. She liked wildflowers wherever they grew. Now, she didn't mind helping nature along. One night she went with me to walk the dog and we brought home armfuls of this yellow flower, from near a pond. The flowers were dying and she wanted to save the seeds. She did, and spread them randomly throughout the yard. She would have loved to see this:
Maybe she sees it all from above. Maybe she's one of the beautiful butterflies feeding off the fowers.
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