I have no choice but to use the word "magical" when describing my grandparents yard. It has stayed the same since I was young, and after watching old home movies I see that it has been the same long before that. This weekend we spent a good amount of time there, and as we started to pack up I panicked. Visions of our flowerless apartment drove me to scurrying around the yard gathering one (or two) of every flower in sight. Every time I walk past my little mason jar of flowers now I just want to pat their pretty little heads and tell them thank you for cheering the place up.