When you hear the word "Columbine" there's one thing that pops into your head. The word has come to mean a terrible, tragic event. It was.
Just about everyone who lives here was touched in some deep way by that awful April day. I'm no exception. I can tell you exactly where I was that day when the news came on the radio that something bad was happening.
But long before that day, the word was a lovely thing. Our state's flower. A Columbine was an exciting find in a mountain meadow when you were out on a hike. Now I have four varieties growing in My Tiny Garden. They're tough, the first plant to push their way through the snow and frozen ground. I consider them a wonder. While the flowers fade in the heat of late summer, they bring me great joy in the spring. It's Columbine season around here.