Lily of the Valley plants in my yard are just beginning to grow and blossom. This is a photo of last year's "crop".
Many years ago, my parents dug up plants in the woods behind their house and brought them up to be planted in my yard. They were a favorite of my father's and now stand as remembrance to him. Now, I must dig up some and plant them at my daughter's house for my as-yet-to-be-born grandson to enjoy.
My father taught me this poem which he learned in school as a song:
'Tis springtime, 'tis springtime, Cold winter is past;
Warm breezes are blowing and May's here at last;
The birds are returning, Their songs fill the air;
And meadows are smiling with blossoms so fair.
It's a good month for singing.