Meredith walked through the gardens like she and Grandma Em always did on Sunday afternoons. The ritual was never missed. She remembered when they first started the tradition. The sun high in the sky, illuminating all the colors of the garden blooms and the smell of the flowers mingled together carried on the early summer breeze. Meredith reached over and ran her fingers through the flowers letting the petals tickle her hand. As she watched the blooms sway, she caught a glimpse of a hummingbird floating in, wings beating, poking about in the bee balm. As it flitted from flower to flower, she felt that Grandma Em, gone just months before, would always be with her on her Sunday walks.