Tag: beauty

Almost Perfect

Every year, one of my potted arrangements outshines all the others. This year, my favorite pot is planted with Snapdragons, Marigolds, and Lobelias.

Alas, the magenta Calla Lilies (center back) and the pink Calibrachoa (back left) have finished blooming.

Gentle Reader, only God is perfect.

Eden

Yesterday, I worked in the garden until mid-afternoon. The heat of the sun made rivulets of salty sweat run down my face. I was too busy, too driven, too absorbed in my tasks to enjoy the day. Finally, satisfied with my labors, I retreated into the shade of the house to rest.

In the evening, I was drawn to walk in the garden. Suddenly, I was in Eden. I understood why God liked to walk in the garden in the evening. There was something about the soft evening light that made the colors of the blossoms and leaves so intensely vivid. The air was cool. Day was almost done.

There was beauty.

Pressed Flower Beauty

My husband recently received a thank-you card decorated with pressed flower art. I liked it so much that I cut out the flower arrangement and pasted it to a piece of card stock to make a bookmark. Then I thought, ah ha! Everything is coming into bloom in the garden. What a perfect time to take up a new hobby! I can save my cherished blossoms to enjoy when spring has passed and make home-made note cards. So I ordered a flower press and bought a how-to book. Pressed Flower Art by W. Eugene Burkhart Jr. was extremely helpful. It was a little pricey, but well worth it. The book included an abundance of colored photos and detailed instructions on everything I needed to know to learn this charming art form.

Yesterday, I filled my new flower press with blossoms, leaves, and stems. Today, I am going to press some blossoms and herbs into an old phone book. Now, all I have to do is wait for them to dry.

That may be the hardest part.

Why Did the Elk Cross the Road?

Spring comes late in the mountains where I spent the weekend. I took my camera wherever I went, but nothing was blooming. However, the Ponderosa Pines satisfied my desire for natural beauty, as they always do.

As I was leaving town, the local herd of elk were gathered along Hull Road. Very polite. They paused from time to time to let the cars go by. Many more were grazing along both sides of the road as I carefully continued on my way. There must have been 60 or 70 of them altogether.

Back home in the Rio Grande Valley, the violas and lobelia were in full bloom. Thank God for spring!

The Garden Chair

The view from my favorite garden chair

The garden is starting to wake up for spring. As I took this picture, it occurred to me that my chair is the most important feature in the garden. There is no point in having a garden if I don’t take time to sit in it.

As I enjoyed the intoxicating warm breeze, the birds provided a symphony of trills and chirps. I read some poetry from Dancing by the Light of the Moon by Gyles Brandreth. (Thank you thetinypotager for the recommendation several months ago.)

Fifteen minutes in the garden was all it took to completely reorient my day.

I am drunk with beauty.

Small Gifts

In the mountains, the wildflowers are sprinkled sparingly here and there. On my morning walks over the past few days, the ones I have spotted have been mostly yellow. They remind me to pay attention and appreciate the little gifts in life that are easily overlooked.

A notable exception to the yellow was the blue beauty pictured below.

Awe and Wonder

I read somewhere that people who garden do so because they love being in the garden. The labor is an excuse to spend time in the midst of beauty.

We never completely tame the garden, although we try. Weeds and slugs battle against our efforts. Sun scorches, wind tangles, drought dries, and deluge drowns. Still, we always come back for more.

I like what I become in the garden. I rediscover awe and wonder at the sight of mysterious growth and new blossoms. I feel close to God in the garden.

I think most gardeners are unconsciously searching for a glimpse of Eden. The curious thing is that, for a moment we actually find it.

Spacing

When our yard was landscaped over a decade ago, the new plants were so small that you could barely see them in the stark expanse of garden rock. Now the plants have matured to the point that the yard almost looks like a desert jungle. But there is still enough space between the plants to present a pleasing appearance.

If you have driven through the Oak Grasslands of California, you have seen my idea of perfect natural spacing. Here and there, the oak trees dot the rolling hills. Somehow they know not to crowd each other. One could easily imagine the Lord strolling through his creation and scattering the acorns that grow into trees. I am reminded of a stanza from “The Spiritual Canticle” by St. John of the Cross:

A thousand graces scattering,
He passed through these groves with haste,
And in gazing at them
With his image alone,
Left them clothed in beauty.