The sun shines through the trees. The day is still bright but it has lost its warmth. The cool breeze of the afternoon rustles the leaves on the trees - one of my favorite sounds. The trees sway, the leaves chatter, and the robins call to one another - like a call to prayer.
I wonder what they sing about. Do they sing to bid the day farewell? Perhaps it is a song of gratitude...
Sunday, May 6, 2012
I glance over at the petals from Mister Lincoln. I have anthromorphized him over the last few days. Posted his life progress in picture format on Instagram and Facebook.
From the moment his bright red petals caught my eye and my nose picked up the delicate scent - I knew this rose was a Mister Lincoln. The first of the season. And since catching my eye a week ago, I have been keeping company with Mister Lincoln.
Sitting in the vase next to me, I couldn't ignore him. His smell so sweet, his color so vibrant. I took in his beauty, I watched him change, and with each change came another level of beauty.
Each unfolding petal changed the shape of his silloutte. He grew bigger, fuller and more symetrical. The soft delicate fragrance deepened and filled the room with an unmistakeable scent of roses.
Yesterday, it was clear that Mister Lincoln had reached the end of his life cycle. I placed him outside to share his pollen with the bees and let the sun begin to dry his petals.
After the time we spent together I couldn't just place him in the yard waste bin. His initial beauty is gone - but his scent remains. I've decided to make a bead from his petals.
Our journey reminds me that life is about change, whether I like it or not, but in a gentler more beautiful way. I am left with a delicate rose bead, a pearl of wisdom, if you will.