Margaret's Mums

Joe likes to joke that we don't recognize people from the community garden outside of their plots. This is sometimes true. It's not true of Margaret, because we've talked many times and I wouldn't mistake her anywhere. But still, when I think of her, I can't help but picture her plants. Potatoes in long rows and Walking Egyptian onions especially. But also Columbine in the spring, and in the fall, her mums. Her mums are fading now in the coffee mug on our table, but I'm hoping to see them and her back again at the garden next year.