The last of the summer flowers

This time of year always makes me pause, and so differently from the way my husband pauses. He’s busy checking the snow tires with the Oct. 31st. date looming – when we usually change out the tires. He’s checking the snow blower, and finishing up with the lawn mower, planning when to blow out the sprinklers and all those things that make our lives run smoother.

But me? I’m thinking about the last of the summer flowers, like good friends to me all summer long, keeping me company out on the patio while I had a nice glass of wine and read a book so many afternoons. I’m reflecting on this vase I love, given to me long ago by an employer, and the sunflower plate underneath this vase, from my long-time friend, Gail, in CA. And of course I am enthralled by the beauty of the flowers.

I don’t understand people who don’t love flowers.  Once at a church pot-luck dinner we had a program where a couple presented a slide show of the flowers they’d seen on a trip to Europe. All over the world they’d taken photos of beautiful flowers that were just like the flowers they had back home in their own yards ~ petunias, tulips, roses, geraniuims, and huge pots of ivy. They said it was comforting for them to know that our flowers connect us to so many people and so many lands. I’ve never forgotten this.

It’s comforting for me to know that every flower in this vase, except for the cosmos, will bloom again next summer without my doing a thing, except to expect them to arrive.

About beeconcise

A Southern writer living in the Pacific Northwest.
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