Reading this morning’s paper

Reading this morning’s paper, I wonder at what I’m reading. Politics, violent unrest, people saving a farm stand, unique art exhibits that lead one inside oneself. I wonder what to make of what I read. How do i process this? How do I to use this information to make myself more—astute, kind, smarter, creative?

Then, for some reason, I think about the roses blooming in the garden. The’ Fairy’ rose is exuberant again. I noticed them when I fetched the paper from the drive early this morning.

Photo & Design: Maria von Brincken copyright 2012
Photo & Design: Maria von Brincken copyright 2012

I noticed them because I missed them most of the summer. It’s been a summer of no pink roses coloring that garden area. It’s probably the water. It’s been an exceptionally dry summer and I practice xeriscaping. That’s the philosophy of gardening that uses as little water as possible relying on the concept of ‘right plant, right place’ plant placement. But this summer I could have applied a little water and treated myself to more flowers. But I was busy and distracted by other things. I noted their absence and now I rejoice at their joyful abundance.

Photo & Design: Maria von Brincken copyright 2012
Photo & Design: Maria von Brincken copyright 2012

This morning I also marvel and feel grateful at the vision of the star like blooms of the vine ‘Sweet Autumn’ Clematis tumbling to the spruce. I noticed it when I added herb stems to the compost bin outside by side porch. I marvel at the image of these flowering areas inside my brain as I wonder what to do with the information I’m reading. And I think the flowers in garden are not only beautiful but the very fact that they ‘go by’ reminds me to be present. And enjoy the flowers now. And, the practical thought flints by, that I might give them a little water so they linger longer so I can enjoy how gorgeous and fragile they are. And be reminded, again by the flowers, that life is in the moments –now. And now I’m writing and will return to the paper and the music I’m listening to reminded that the songs played are just as fleeting as the flowers.

Leave a Reply