Near the burn pile, behind the garage, and under an old broken pecan tree there lies the remains of the foundation of a house from long ago. These white heritage lilies bloom every year along the edge of that foundation and stay around as long as the cows in the pasture will let them. Our neighbor across the road says these bulbs are a hundred years old or more.
They say your heart is as big as your fist.
I asked my husband, “How big are the bulbs of these lilies?”
He put up his two fists. They’re Texas-sized for sure.