My irises are blooming today. These irises used to be my mother's irises. Before that they were my Grandfather's irises. When I see these big beauties in my yard I remember my Grandfather's whistle. When he was feeling good he would whistle. He whistled hymns most of the time and he had the ability to whistle in and whistle out. He could whistle a hymn without stopping for breath. I, too, whistle when I am feeling good but I seldom whistle hymns. I whistle rock and roll songs, classical music, and the odd television jingle.
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Arboretum
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