Somehow I missed the memo in past years that there is such a thing as an autumn crocus. Its job seems less necessary than the late winter ones. When those peek through the snowy, frozen ground we need the tangible reminder that spring will come again. In autumn, the signs are everywhere.
What a gift this weekend was. It was long and lazy, and less rushed than previous ones. The little one is always collecting things now, always talking, always moving numbers around in grouping exercises, and doing the same with acorn caps and spent blossoms.
She’s filled a terrarium floor with her finds, and is working on the understory. She says it’s the most beautiful terrarium ever made inside a milk jug and I think she’s right.
Have a great week. Hope you get to spend a part of it in a garden.