I have a very short walk to Dad's. When the bugs are few my walk is longer. There's a shaded path that has the most interesting mushrooms that pop up. A chocolaty looking one that grows in the oaks. White bowl shaped mushrooms and stink horns, they make me wonder what on earth ... Why God? Dad has a little garden on the deck. We planted petunias and impatients in the pickled herring buckets he saved! I added in a couple of my baskets from last years flowers! The mound of flowers are beautiful! He also has green beans and tomatoes and peas!
My walk back home. It's a pretty stroll. I remembered the visitors that crossed this path. The boys who peddled their bikes to Grandma and Grandpa's place. I also reached back into my own memory and my Grandma's path to our home. She came through a winding path much deeper then ours. When she rounded the corner she would lift her hand and with a pointing finger shake her little hello! Into her sweater pocket she would reach and out came a pink or white peppermint candy! It's a pretty stroll.
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