The barrenwort came from Sandra up the lane. She had a lot of it, I admired it, and she said, Take some! and I did, planting it beside the garage where it now thrives, changing colour and shape from April to September, then a smaller piece in the bed that runs before the laurel.
Over time that smaller piece was overtaken by the wild geranium and forgotten, until I noticed one spring its single hat-like flower poking through the geranium's lighter green leaves. A cry for help. So I helped it, moving it to the boulevard, a vignette I made around the Japanese cherry, where things are in balance, with no one getting a leg up on the other.
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