Elara had found the seeds in an rusted tin tucked away in her grandmother’s attic, labeled only with a fading, elegant script: Aquilegia: Granny’s Bonnets .
They looked like tiny, whimsical birds taking flight, or perhaps, as her grandmother had written, little bonnets waiting for a stroll. aquilegia
One afternoon, a humming-bird moth, drawn by the sweet nectar hidden in the spurs, buzzed around the blooms, dancing with the delicate, nodding flowers. Elara had found the seeds in an rusted
"You are a quiet, joyful thing, aren't you?" Elara murmured, touching the soft, dangling petals. labeled only with a fading