Two roses are in bloom in my garden. Not two plants, just two roses. Peachy-apricot and today they sit flawlessly on the bush, no blemishes, at the peak of their perfection, ready to take on the world.
Who knows how long it will last? My view here is very simplistic, a hopeful simplicity (if only life were that simple). What is important is that they enjoy the wonder that is today, forget the battles over, and find quiet ignorance of what may come. Happy oblivion is so hard to come by. Their perfection is unique - I know that to be such, they are flawed. We are all flawed - and that is what makes us who we are. The honesty of this perfection is knowing and admitting what we know about ourselves to be true. I wouldn't want the roses to be anything else...
Aside from the beauteous roses, the apple tree is now shedding quite a few of the glut of apples – as predicted. It simply was too much to handle, and they lie lost on the floor. The blackbirds enjoy them though, and I even open the fallers to allow easy access to the flesh within. The birds know this. They are quite capable of pecking through the skin, and do so if I have not cut for them. Of course they are totally self-sufficient – they are living beings. Their evolution has brought them to a place where they can be so. And I am happy that is the case. I’m not trying to save a weak species from extinction, it is just a welcome recognition that I can sometimes help make their life easier. That gives me some small feeling that I have helped – even though it may not have been needed. And in any case, I would rather the fallen apples were used than wasted.
The air was cool as I walked barefoot on the lawn this morning. All the promise of a glorious day ahead is given, although the sun has not yet reached high enough in the sky to warm the air. It will do so later, and that will be good. This time of year is wonderful, and unusually the garden is still green and lush, when normally it would be fading into brown by now. The cycle of things is taking its course, but is always different – and this year the garden is sporting a new fence, a tidy pond, and is warming my heart. Life goes on.
