My mother was happiest in her garden, and the words of the verse above always make me think of her. She would go to the garden in the very early morning hours and spend time weeding and picking flowers for the little bouquet she always kept on the kitchen table in the summertime. Mother Nature was kind to her. Everything she put in the ground seemed to grow and flourish. Her garden was her special talent. Credit: C. Bauman for the graphics, and to Dover for the butterfly. Thanks for stopping by!