Year by year, the neighbor’s irises have crept like a floral glacier across the narrow path I maintain between his yard and our garden. This spring, they were so heavy with blooms, I had to prop them up to keep them from smothering our young tomato plants. It was a beautiful sight — so beautiful that sometime in July, if I am still living, I will dig and divide those grown into the path, and plant them somewhere in our yard. I think this is what they expect of me. I will be like a squirrel or bird, helping to fulfill nature’s promise by spreading her wealth and her joy.
Ancient blue faces — I see a great mountain beyond.