Wildflowers remind me of when I was growing up. My friend Janet and I spent many happy hours searching the woods and pastures for violets, bloodroot, Dutchmans-breeches, trillium, and trout lilies to name only a few. They were the ephemeral friends of our youth and I love meeting them again each spring. The little beauties above bloom beside the road where they are are dusted by passing cars, dumped on by the grader and/or the snowplow in season, salted, sanded and still they grow! They look fragile. Pick them and they bleed. Breathe on them and the petals fall off. But year after year they survive and thrive.
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