Sometimes, something small in the backyard can stop you in your tracks.

My wife grows straw flowers—those bright, crisp blooms that somehow look like they were made of sunshine and paper. They don’t wilt like other flowers. When you cut them and hang them to dry, they keep their color, their shape, their presence. Even time seems to step back and let them be.

And I realized something the other day.

That’s her.

She still calls me darling after all these years. She keeps our home going, keeps the cats fed and spoiled, and somehow moves through each day with this quiet grace that doesn’t ask for credit.

The flowers she grows are beautiful. But they’re only echoes of the woman who planted them. The real miracle is her.

So if you see someone growing something beautiful in their yard—maybe it’s more than a garden. Maybe it’s love that knows how to last.

Love ya babe! ❤️