by Meredith Chilson
Photos by author
Some years ago, we had a lovely neighbor who could grow anything. I would take my babies to visit with her, and we would come home with the back of the car filled with cuttings and clippings of various herbs and pots and buckets of perennials. I think of her every spring when my English violets and white forget-me-nots bloom, and again when I harvest borage, mints and comfrey. The herb teas steeping beside the fragrant little bouquet sitting on my table bring back special memories and reminders of stories and advice imparted by my old friend.