All summer long I have faithfully watered my purple cloud shrubs, and all summer long they have produced only a few blossoms. Then we finally had a soaking rain a few weeks ago. I began to watch for the profusion of blossoms that always appears after a generous downpour.
This week my shrubs are wildly blooming. Gentle reader, they know the difference. They know when the water comes from God.
It’s late summer when much of the garden is looking dusty and a little brown around the edges, but the plumbago is still flowering. The tall sedums are coming into bloom, and the roses are still providing color. In every season, I manage to have something blooming in the courtyard. Later in the fall, I will pot up multi-colored violas, because they will survive an occasional crusting of snow and ice in winter.
I need flowers. They are essential for my well-being. When I was working outside of the home, I usually bought an inexpensive bunch of flowers for my desk on Mondays. They kept me going throughout the week. No matter how stressful or tedious my job became, just gazing at a bouquet of blue irises made everything better.
The beauty of a tender blossom is delicate and fleeting, but I can deal with the grief of its passing as long as there are more buds on the way.
Gentle Reader, in an effort to slow down and live life at a more gracious pace, I have taken up watercolor painting. I want to have fun – enjoy the ones that turn out well and throw away the bad. No more striving for perfection.
I have been thinking a lot about the simple pleasures of life. I suspect I have been missing a lot by striving for achievements that no one has asked of me. I recently saw a quote that I like by William Morris, the English textile designer: “The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.”
How can I take an interest in the details of daily life, if I am always striving for something just out of reach?