Summer Memories

I found these little memory-joggers next to the stairs to my house.

Although I’m not sure what type of flower they are, exactly, they remind me of Queen Ann’s Lace.  The first time I heard my grandmother tell me about those flowers, I imagined something stately, cultivated.  Then I found myself in a car which was coasting to the side of a road lined with tall-stemmed, chest-high wildflowers that appeared to have been delicately crocheted.

Of all the memories from summer vacations spent at my grandparents’, that one is the most permanent.  To this day, I cannot pass a lace-like flower without stopping and remembering the first time I noticed the beauty of wildflowers.


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