May Apples seem to have a fantasy feel to them. They are like huge umbrellas covering the woodland floor. I have found a few treasures underneath, but often think of fairies and gnomes hiding. I listen for tiny giggles, perhaps a glimpse of a little pointy hat, or a beautiful fairy.
May apple blooms
A tired and tattered Red Admiral followed me while I roved through the woods. Maybe we met before.
Jack in the Pulpit