(In my back yard)
I’ve been feeling more pensive than loquacious this past week, so you’ll be happy to know that this post will be far less long-winded than my last.
You may remember that I talked in the previous post about our bee balm that has never bloomed before, but is covered with blossoms this summer. Well, it’s not only blooming, it’s blooming in different colors! Light pink, magenta, purple, and white growing side by side and appearing to spring from a single plant. Obviously, there must be different plants in the one clump, but, still, such a riot of colors was so unexpected that it seems wondrous and magical.
And so pretty. Even the bud of the bee balm is amazing to me. It starts out looking like just a cluster of tightly compressed green leaves, but over time, those leaves unfurl and open a few at the time, like a little present, to at last reveal the flower inside. And the bees and butterflies and hummingbird moths…and me…can’t get enough of it.
And one more small unexpected marvel: Last year, we installed front porch flower boxes (and gingerbread trim) to make our rather plain little doublewide look as close to Victorian as a trailer could possibly look. (A challenging task indeed). Early in the spring, I noticed little green shoots in the flower boxes. The flowers from last year had re-seeded! And the flowers (mostly petunias) finally blossomed last week. I never cease to be amazed at the improbability of such tiny, insignificant-looking seeds growing into something so lovely. And without any help from me. An everyday miracle, but a miracle nevertheless, I think.
(from my front porch this morning)
I hope you’ve had some wonders of your own in the past week. I think the miracles are always there. It’s just that sometimes you have to remember to look for them and to listen. To keep your mouth closed—-but your mind and heart wide open.