A couple of years ago husband and I were visiting a children’s garden in Ann Arbor. There was an old pail spilling over with lantana. He stopped to admire it, and then asked if we could grow some in our garden. Sure I replied. It’s easy to grow.
And then I forgot all about it.
But this year, as he and I were perusing the local nursery, considering what to put into the pots outside the front door, I saw it again. Lantana in beautiful and cheerful colors.
And I thought of my mom who used to grow it in a small garden out by the driveway of her Alabama home. How it reseeded itself every year, tolerated drought, how deer didn’t eat it. So we bought some.
And now, every time I go in or out of our front door I think of my mom. I think she would have enjoyed the colors and the shapes. The interesting buds that turn into intricate blossoms. They would have made her smile.
They make me smile too.