My secret admirer

For the past three years someone (and I totally think I know who) has left me a little bouquet of my favorite flowers on my porch on Memorial Day.

I am going to go on thinking of this as a mystery, a person that loves beauty and can understand my deeply sentimental attachment to peonies, having grown up with my grandmother lovingly tending to hers, in a manner she reserved only for her favorite children (like me).