IHIS RETICULATA 



DAYS IN MY GARDEN 



Mother Nature's spring carpet, in familiar and yet ever 

 new pattern. And, somehow, we find as much pleasure 

 nay more in the tiny vase of these 

 earliest heralds which we rescue from 

 the still unkind elements as we shall 

 find in the bowl of June roses. We watch 

 the roses as they grow, we see them 

 slowly come as sunny days grow longer ; 

 we tend and prune and wash and kill, 

 we watch the promised unfolding of the 

 blooms ; not so with these first spring 



gems. Only 

 yesterday, the 

 frost-bound 

 soil showed 

 but the tips of 

 green-spiked 

 blades of Iris 

 reticulata and to- 

 day, as if some fairy's 



THE SAME CLUMP TWENTY-FOUR HOUHS 

 LATER 



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