I spent the week in the mountains. It was very dry, so I didn’t see many wildflowers. Before I left for the mountains, my new rose bush (bred specifically for growing in a pot) was covered with buds. When I returned, I found it in full bloom. Roses always make me think of Our Lady.
What is it about roses that makes them so special?
Sometimes the most interesting floral combinations seem to occur by happenstance. When I came home from the mountains this week, one of my cacti was in full bloom. I was lucky to see it, since the blossoms only last for one day. In the background — Calibrachoa, Petunias with Lobelia, and Dianthus.
In the shady side of the garden, my Pincushion Flower volunteer from last year was also blooming, along with the Lobelia that I added to the pot a few weeks ago to fill up space. They seem to be getting along together nicely.
I walked along the river in the forest this morning. There was something comforting about the continual flow of water as it tumbled over the rocks in the river bed — living water, fed by mountain springs high above. The river bubbled with quiet sounds of swirling water and little falls. Yet, here and there, the water paused in tranquil pools before continuing on its never-ending search for lower ground.
I looked for the wild sweet peas that I saw along the banks last May, but it was too early, or perhaps too dry. When I looked up from my search, a tree was blooming.