Florence’s spirit keeps popping up, in the house, and especially, outside, where her long buried gardens are still alive still sending beauty and light up into the world. Florence was 104 when she died, and it was probably a long while back that she was able to tend the gardens that once ringed the farmhouse. We have found a few of hers, planted some of her own, but another secret garden has appeared, out by the birdbath, out by the pasture fence. This weekend, I intend to dig it out and restore as much of it as I can. It will probably take more than one try, but her blue and red Irises have appeared out of the tall grass and sent a signal to me that another gardens wants to come back to life. I’m just the man for that.