Isn't she lovely?
Can a fern be a she ... or a he? I don't know, honestly, but this fern has a decidedly feminine look about her. She's a she in my book.
I really am fond of my friend, Fern. She has been a porch companion of mine for many, many years. At least 10, and surely more. I don't know how Fern has survived, when so many of her cousins have not. Under all her frilly fronds, Fern is a hardy old girl.
I'm not going daft in my old age, feeling affectionate about Fern. There is just something about her that mades me feel fondly toward her.
In one of my most favorite Masterpiece Classics, Miss Betty Barker, retired milliner of Cranford, almost loses her beloved milk cow after the old girl wanders into the town's lime pit and gets stuck. The poor bovine loses all her hair because of the nasty experience, and so Miss Betty sews her up some cow-sized flannel pajamas to keep her covered. In one of the episode's funniest lines, Miss Betty says, in all sincerity, "That cow is like a daughter to me."
Well, I feel that way about Fern. Except, unlike Miss Betty, I do have real daughters. So don't tell them how I feel about Fern. They might not like sharing my affection.
This is one of Fern's favorite seasons. She's happiest in Fall. So am I. We're a lot alike in some ways, Fern and I. We love the porch, and we love gentle breezes, the warm morning sunshine on our faces and a nice cool drink in the warmer afternoon. It really doesn't take a lot to make us happy.
There's a lot to be said for a friend who is always there for you, doesn't demand much and doesn't talk back. Fern is a forever sort of friend.