I thought at first no foot had trod

[thatcrowwoman]

5. Raised goosebumps up and down my arms, Atticus.

Grandma Shorty, of blessed memory, would say that’s the Spirit moving.

I come from a long line of violet lovers and your poem brought me so many wonderful memories.
Many thanks.

She had the greenest thumb, with pansies and marigolds along the walkway and African violets in a riot of colors in every windowsill in the breakfast nook. Her youngest child, my dear dad of blessed memory, loved violets inside and outside. Dandelions, not so much.

My yard is much like a meadow. Bloodroots are about bloomed out, but the leaves are lovely.The violets and dandelions against new spring greens are especially cheerful in the sunshine. 🌞

L’dor vador. From generation to generation.
🕊thatcrowwoman