Yesterday Sophie and I took a walk with my mom. For most of you that probably sounds a bit alarming as my mom has been gone for over two years now. Don’t worry! Sarah is not cracking up in France. Yet.

Yesterday, Sophie and went out on a longer walk than our usual because it was warm and I knew the wildflowers were coming in earnest now. As soon as we turned on to the path, I felt my mom’s presence. It felt like we were looking together at the violets peeking out, the anemone, and the primrose. I could almost feel her turning my face to catch a peek of a newly blooming flower. I’m certain she also noticed the faintly sweet smell coming off the flowering trees.

I was reminded of one of the first Spring walks I remember taking with my mom. I was really little -either three or four years-old. She took me to walk up a hillside in West Auburn with her friend and similarly aged daughter. I remember it as a rigorous hike but I think that was because I was so little and the scale felt huge.

As we walked along the path, my mom pointed out and identified all the wild flowers growing. She pointed out dog-tooth violets, blue-its, and trillium. She explained we shouldn’t pick wild flowers because they were most beautiful left growing where they were. We hunted and ultimately found the lady slipper my mom was hoping she could show me. I have never forgotten the way it looked a misplaced orchid in the woods.

I will always remember that walk and the many we took since. My mom imparted to me a love of flowers and a curiosity about things growing in nature. She had an eye for detail which I’ve inherited. I am so grateful she taught me to slow down and really look to find the treasures often hidden in plain sight. I’m also grateful she joined Sophie and I on our walk yesterday. She really would have loved this place.