Here is one of the patches of trilliums in our garden that you saw in their bud stage in the previous blog.
As lovely as these are, there is nothing like seeing them blooming in their natural habitat. After a roast chicken dinner together, John set out with us to carry on a Mother’s Day tradition, one I had enjoyed as a child. Into the woods we headed, the Homer Watson woods, entering from a pull-off on Old Mill Drive, a few minutes from our home.
Before us, reigned the white queen of the woodlands, trilliums—our provincial floral emblem!
One never tires of beholding their pristine beauty―but―such beauty can actually be hung on a wall:
Partway down the trail, John found a chair with a back on it.
Lloyd and I also enjoyed a pause.
Of course, other spring flowers were discovered―blue, yellow and white violets, dogtooth violets, may apple umbrellas, bloodroots―and my favourite, jack-in-the-pulpit.
We didn’t try to dig up any leeks as we had transplanted some last spring into our garden.
More perfect weather, you could not have ordered.
Thanks, Mom, for starting this wondrous Mother’s Day tradition!