There is a corner of my garden I call the ‘spring garden’, a simple name for a magical spot. Aurea creeping jenny and sweet woodruff flex their muscles to build a carpet of rounded golden and starry deep green leaves with a sprinkling of sparkly white flowers. Fresh hosta leaves swirled in shades of green, and frothy fern fronds trumpet through the carpet. Pink and white fringes of bleeding heart sway in the breeze. Flirty columbine in purple, white and pink seem to grin from their slender stems. Stately solomon’s seal arches majestically with dangling white bells, its matte oval leaves catching water drops. Forget-me-nots and violets add speckles of spritely blue and purple. It feels decadent to have this corner of the garden planted so heavily with spring bloomers, but I think of it as my small tribute to spring, a celebration of spring. And the hostas, ferns and foliage will jubilate into summer and fall.