Day 103: My walk on the Bud Blancher Trail a few days back was multi-purpose. I needed photographic material for posts. I needed to get Out. And I wanted to see if the Snowdrops had come through the ground in my secret spot. I had a cunning plan which involved a small plastic bag and a well-worn trowel, items which have served me in good stead many times over, including previously at my target location. I'm not quite sure who owns the property. At least one of the locals uses it for a post-hunt bone dump, although it seems to be on the boundary of Pack Forest. In any event, the Snowdrops are not native. However they managed to establish up an abandoned and overgrown path is anyone's guess, but apparently they've been there for years. They are quite well entrenched, the bulbs often buried deeply under a layer of heavy gravel which resists my most vigorous efforts to budge it. My previous excavation hasn't diminished the Snowdrop population, and in fact the fruits of my prior labours should be blooming in my front flower bed in the next few weeks. However, on this occasion, I wanted to bring home another small batch to plant on Skunk's grave with the grape hyacinths, daffodils and violets I've put there previously. My old kitty-girl has been gone almost a year now, and both Tippy and I miss her. It occurred to me only a few days ago that she had been with me longer than any other creature except my late husband, and that, only by a few months. I think Snowdrops are a fitting tribute.
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