days of flowers

These spring days, the sky seems like a barque, floating on a wind-sea. I watch the valiant gold sunrise over breakfast, and eat dinner under the watercoloured moon, beside waters or beneath oaks if I can. I have begun planting a new year's worth of flowers - marigolds, petunias, other flowers whose names I don't know but whose dainty hearts I hope to become friends with over the months.




As I planted loveliness in the old wooden trough my father gave me the last time he visited, butterflies drifted around and small birds sang emphatically from rooftops. Such simplicity, such beauty. I don't know why people need riches, fabulous furniture, jet-setting adventures. Give me a little earth and some seeds, some fresh air, some peace in the warm belly of the earth, and it will be luxury.

Gardening has such a motherly feeling to it, a mucking-around-with-magic feeling too. Or maybe it's just that a person connects deeply with themselves when they're kneeling on the earth, hands brown with dirt, hearts hoping for the life of little plants - and so I feel myself a mother, a witch, a storyteller with words and petals and dirt and hope. 

In a moment I am going to watch the third presidential debate, but I wanted to come here briefly and share flowers with you.

5 comments:

  1. the flowers are most welcome, especially to offset the debate...

    and gardening is magic, isn't it?

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  2. Love your thoughts on spring, I so agree.
    Your spring is just arriving.. as our autumn wanes.

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  3. I have been collecting the shrivelled remnants of summer's blooms here. It is heartwarming to think of you in your spring garden on the other side of the world, while here the plants are dying back as we welcome in the cooler months. Enjoy your flowers :)

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  4. Thank you for sharing your springtime garden magic.♥

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