There was nothing tropical about her backyard. Entering her Florida home there was a "To the Beach" sign, one of her favorite places. Walking through the house and peering out the sliding glass doors you could see the backyard was a piney woods, wild, unkempt and overgrown. Her other side. Besides the tall pines there were passion flower vines and butterfly bushes. Once in a great while SHE would have someone come in to cut but SHE always regretted it, nothing ever suited her, something was always ruined, even though everything mysteriously grew back. SHE loved the woods as much as SHE loved the beach, eventually she purchased a second home in the tree-covered Tennessee countryside where SHE was born. It was as secluded and intimate as much of her life.
The "Frog Crossing" sign, however, was placed along the walkway to the front door. I had given it to my mom some years back as there was an over supply of toads near her own front door and my sons delighted in such boy creatures when we would visit. Why not mark the site? SHE appropriately transferred location to her place after our mother died, the tropical side along the front walkway under the sultry unidentified flora that grew out of control, annoyingly reaching out to us. Those plants, some cross between an elephant ear and a fern begged us to chop them as they grew far onto the sidewalk and hit us in the knees when we walked by.
I am keeping it. It is now in my front yard along my porch. You can see a butterfly bush I planted near it. Maybe I will be lucky and my front yard will become filled with the butterflies that crowded her backyard. Frogs are welcome too, and I need to get a passion flower vine.
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