That first spring here there was little more than Lily of the Valley, now a thriving river of greens runs along the house, and in the front grows Oregano, French Tarragon, and Chives with that trio of coneflowers, Nasturtiums, Snapdragons, and Tonka trucks. Out in the back upon that stone stoop, purple velvet pillow stained with walnuts welcomes me to rest me weary arse, after … Continue reading What A Garden Can Be