Flowers

I love flowers.   I especially love the hydrangeas that grow in my backyard.  I love looking at all their different hues, I love their beautiful palette. It never ceases to amaze me how one bunch, or even one head, can have varied colors.

I learn so much from flowers.  I learn about beauty.  I learn about being present long enough to enjoy their beauty.  I also learn to be present long enough to watch them fade.  And I learn to be present and live with their death and absence.

My hydrangeas are almost gone.  Their colors are less vibrant, less alive.  Both the leaves and dried flowers are fading away day by day as the colder weather stays with us.

Watching them fade makes me sad and yet at the same time their fading is what teaches me the most. They teach me about the life/death cycle.  They teach me that life is rich and offers a beautiful palette, but inevitably that palette changes becoming less vibrant until it completely fades away.


May Sarton says it so well, "When I'm alone the flowers are really seen; I can pay attention to them.  They are felt as presences.  Without them I would die.  Why do I say that?  Partly because they change before my eyes.  They live and die in a few days; they keep me closely in touch with process, with growth, and also with dying.  I am floated on their moments."

I am embracing this concept of process, growth and dying.  My flowers are fading.  I am present with this and I look forward to when they will bloom again.