Archives for posts with tag: flowers
Summer Flowers – Photo from July

It’s funny how whether you have a plan or not, sometimes, the day has a plan for you. It could be the Universe talking or Mother Nature, or maybe the Earth has reached its capacity to maintain balance. It’s as though some higher power has run a finger and swished the yin-yang of this world into chaos. It’s as though we are in a state of pause….and from this chaos, there is light, there is hope.

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This is where my fingers stop tapping. They hover above the keyboard, ready to say more, but at the moment this may be it, and that’s OK.

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Yesterday I went to a nearby thrift store to drop off some donations. Mostly clothes and a few books. I wasn’t planning on going into the store. The donation drop-off is at the back of the store. I pulled the car up and gave the lady my bags. She was on the phone and said that she was talking to a friend that has to move out of her home to live closer to her grown kids so that they can help take care of her. She was having trouble letting go of all that she’d accumulated during her lifetime. I nodded in understanding. We are all headed in that direction. Collectors of memories and stuff.

I walked away, got into my car, ready to circle out of there; instead, I pulled into a parking spot in the back and decided to head into the store to see if there were any treasures I could find. As I walked past the lady toward the front entrance of the building, she smiled at me and said, “your our best type of customer; you start in the back and end in the front.” I gave a wide smile, and bid her good day. I liked her words. I hadn’t thought of it quite that way, but it was true, and it made me want to find something that much more. I didn’t make it past the books, but I did leave there with a pile of books and a surprise that I saw at check out. A bright pink box: 20 Poems: Cards which use Rhyme and Rhythm to Make Words Stick by The School of Life.

As I reach the end of today’s journal page, I am open to what the day brings. I try to keep my optimism hat on, but at the same time, I acknowledge whatever emotions I may be feeling at any moment.

I breathe in deeply…letting my breath out slowly, as I sign off, leaving a trail of peace.

Today the body feels like it’s bein pulled down. Energy is low. I breathe in and out deeply–soaking in the bright spots of flowers and blue sky, reaching for the wind to pull me up, to soar high above the tree tops with the chirpers and blackbirds. 

Saturday was a good day. Each day actually hasn’t something good to appreciate, but Saturday was great because I got out of the house early before anybody was awake, even the stores weren’t quite ready for me. I started with a hot cocoa from Starbucks, then ventured over to the .99 cents store that was open. I went down each isle in search for something that I might need, being careful not to buy just because it was a bargain. I found a blank notebook. I don’t know that I really needed it; I saw it as a new beginning, a fresh start. I also bought one pack of miniature Hersey bars. I couldn’t resist.

I wanted to go to the gym. My excuse for not going was that I forgot my fanny pack, which is essential for taking only what I need. I didn’t want to go back home just for that. Instead I parked the car near the bookstore, walked over to the Walgreens, which was a couple of blocks away–a little bit of exercise, albeit not as much as if I went to the gym.

Finally, I ended the morning searching through the stacks of bargain books outside the bookstore. I haven’t actually done this for a while and it felt really good, taking my time, being by myself, not rushed and just enjoying some “me time.” I did find a handful of books and have started two, one is a collection of essays celebrating Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. I need to read her much loved book. I have vague memories from my school days, but don’t feel that I’ve actually read it, so it’s on my TBR list, and I may get to it sooner than planned. I also picked up The Borrower, which has really piqued my interest. It’s quirky so far and I like quirky. Also, a Paul Auster book: Timbuktu.

When I exited the bookstore, the day settled in on my spirit. The blue skies had a softeness to them, the three little birds that I saw playing underneath a car, swept past me and I could hear the flutter of their wings. I think that was the second highlight of my morning. It practically gave me goose bumps.

I took my bag of books and my happy state of mind back home with me, ready to fold into the rest of the day.

The other morning, as I was just about to get out of bed, I heard a “meow” then another. The window was slightly open, so I could hear this mystery kitty. We’ve been hearing loud running on the rooftop at night. We joked that it sounds like a tiger. I got out of bed and peeked through the blinds. Kitty was sitting atop of one of the wooden bench seats. He didn’t see me. I stared at him taking in his black, shiny coat. I clicked my tongue to get his attention; he turned his head, startled. We looked at each other for a moment, I said hello. He responded with a dash, and quickly darted off.

A sound that made me smile extra wide this week was a woodpecker pecking. I rarely hear them anymore and for some reason that sound takes me somewhere evoking a childhood giddiness inside my soul.

Sunday we plan to take the last of our things which will no longer make this home our home. There will be new sounds; lots more birds; yapping doggies, which I’ll be joyed to cuddle with.

When I passed these flowers on one of my walks during lunch hour, I almost went by without taking a photo. I couldn’t help myself; they were too beautiful and happy for me not to take them in for a bit longer.

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Black cat meows as if in conversation with himself;
happy flowers stand at attention in flower pots,
waiting to be noticed by passerby;
woodpeckers keep on pecking even when you don’t hear them–
each day–
something the same and something surprising.

I’ve replaced the pink carnations that sat on the small dining room table. Without this short, stout vase and these flowers, that corner of the room, the wall, the table–it looks stark in a way that says something essential is missing.

At that moment, I made a decision to keep the vase full.

Carnations are the hardiest. I bought the last bunch at Safeway. They lasted two weeks. This past Friday, I went to the flower shop to buy flowers. I asked for hearty flowers that wouldn’t spill their stamen. The florist mentioned a few options and I chose the deep pink asters; two pale pink carnations; a lone magenta carnation; a few sprigs of a dainty white filler flower that I’ve forgotten the name of that looks like a miniature daisy; and a few branches of lemon leaf to flesh the arrangement out. I asked for eucalyptus, but she was out. The scent and texture of eucalyptus invigorates my senses and there are memories…always memories.

Each morning, afternoon, evening–each time I pass the dining room table, the flowers poke out from their stout vase and brighten my moment.

I’ve had this vase for at least two or three years and only brought it out now and again.

Now, it has its place, a purpose, a reason.