Did you know that there are 13 different classes of daffodils? Not me. Of course, I am familiar with the big yellow ones that come up in the early spring. We have a bunch of those that rise from the pachysandra that we have planted around the Japanese Cherry tree. These yellow beauties stand tall, and their trumpet shape seems to be announcing the beginning of spring. If you listen closely, you can hear them heralding this coming season. And we have branched out into the two-colored ones with white cups and yellow pedals. What I did not know is that there are other classes of daffodils and a wide range of colors and sizes.

A master gardener would have a collection covering all the species and hybrids. Plant people are fascinating. If I planted just a few of each variety my flower bed would be overflowing. Time to dig up some more grass! Gardens are powerful. There are so many things that you can put in a garden.
A few miles away, we have a delightful public garden. The pathways wind through flowering trees and arbors by the rose gardens and across small streams where the waterlilies are bobbing around. Then, the path sweeps out into the sun and makes a wide pass around the pond where waterlilies delight with their serene floating and surprising blooms. The grass sweeps forward drawing you into a narrow path between the bamboo. The swishing sounds as you pass through the bamboo open to an enclosure filled with flamingos. Imagine 30, 40, or more flamingos wandering around. As you pass the flamingos, you head into a rose arbor and rows and rows of various roses of beautiful colors of pinks, yellows, and reds. The walk through this treasure of a garden is mesmerizing. The butterfly bushes at the end of the path remind me that I, too, want to plant a butterfly bush!

I want the butterflies to find my garden and entertain me with their brightly colored wings and delicate presence. They entice me to sit and watch as they flit from place to place. They are migrating soon and filling up for the long trip. The Monarch butterflies are of special interest as I think they travel the farthest. From my garden just outside of Washington, DC, they will fly to the southernmost part of Mexico. Each year, a new generation of Monarchs will make the trip of thousands of miles to the same forest in the southern part of Mexico. How does this work? Somehow, the memory passes from one generation to the next. The migration is magical!