I realized tonight that the smell of the basswood tree blooming in our front yard might be the smell of Devyn's childhood (the way the smell of wild onions reminds me of hot summer days after my dad had just cut the lawn).
The taste of ripe, red strawberries or tart gooseberries warm in the sun might be the taste of her childhood (the way I remember the taste of warm peaches from the tree in Poppy's yard).
And the sound of the red winged black bird singing from the cattail groves might be the sound of her childhood (the way I recall the buzz of cicadas that lulled me to sleep).
You will have such an amazing place for her to explore with gooseberries and herbs....I always felt glad your imagination was such that it could make magic wands of a willow twig, since our yard was not so lush! :)
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