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Posts Tagged ‘flowers’

The interior of several white tulips.  As I’ve written before, tulips were not always my favorite flowers.  But now it is with pleasure I buy a bouquet, their heads tightly closed, and wait just a few days for the blossoms to open, revealing the subtle hues shading their centers.

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… I went for a walk by the water and what did I see?  I saw a tree with pink-tinged blossoms filling the sky over me.

An unexpected late autumn delight.

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A story inspired by a 5-year old in love with “Once upon a time a little girl …” 😉

Once upon a time a little girl picked a bouquet of flowers.  She put them in a vase of water and placed the vase next to a window.  Each flower upon its  sturdy stem was beautiful in the sunlight.  But then time passed and the flowers changed no matter how many times she added water.  One morning she brushed her hand across the dying blooms and a whole flower fell to the table.

It broke revealing all its many parts that had made a single whole.

The girl gently touched the fragile pieces.  While she admired their different shapes and colors and textures, she wanted her flower back as a single beautiful thing.

And so she picked up the stigma and stamen and petals and leaves and she tried to put the puzzle back together again.  It was, of course, an impossible task.  As she stood there at the window trying to decide if she should be very angry or very sad or just a little crabby, a ray of light touched a petal and the withering stems.   “It’s still beautiful,” the girl realized with a smile, “Just in a different way.”

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and by this river of light

the petal sipped its fill of bright water

until it too glowed with the ferocity of the sun

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A pepper plant blossom that I found on the floor

and then placed on a piece of blue vellum.

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I have been trying to photograph a vase of baby’s breath for quite a while now.  The stems were part of a larger bouquet, just filler for the fancier flowers.  But as those flowers passed away, the baby’s breath remained, tall and strong though with a certain fragility.

This morning as I sat at the kitchen table thinking about the chaos in many a friend and family member’s life right now, people who are bearing the weight of so much sadness, my eyes kept falling upon the vase of baby’s breath.  The light from that same sun that struck the green sage mentioned in an earlier post now fell upon fine white petals.

Against the backdrop of a window still covered in frost, the petals reminded me of fresh fallen snow with the dazzle of glistening flakes and the accompanying quiet that descends upon the land.  In those moments, I always think of snow as a beautiful thing.

I once wrote a poem about white being the color of sadness.  When I wrote those words years ago, that feeling was true.  Today I feel differently.  I don’t know what color sadness is for me today, but I know it is not white.

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… butterflies in a mobile that a friend gave to me several years ago,

dried flowers disintegrating at a wonderfully slow pace,

oak leaves shining like jewels in a coronet,

and water dissipating on a window pane.

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