Every spring I hope to eat a few of the wild strawberries that grow in the path to the barn but other creatures get to them first. I once lived where wild strawberries grew in the front lawn and I ate them on the way to collect the mail. The place had been a farm house long before Topeka consumed the farmland in subdivisions and streets. Though the lawn grass was vigorous, the little strawberry plants stubbornly grew plentifully in the old prairie soil marooned amid the noise and concrete of civilization.
As you may notice, Jake enthusiastically entered into the photography project this morning.
And of course, the violets are here. They bloom early and stay for many days, reminding me always of Patti.