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We don't plant them - she said.
Year after year - they return. They fill these fields with their color.
And - I thought of this day....where we're all remembering another.
And - I wondered about time and its passing....and how flowers continue to grow.
Doing what they do.
Opening their hearts.
Lifting their heads to the sun.
Showing up. Shining brightly.
So joyous. So happy.
And - in that moment - I smiled.
Because - it's what we have.
Isn't it?
Today.
I have not the just right words to adequately describe this summer's day.
Bright sun. Humid and hot. A warm breeze. Color-filled.
And - I thought - a picture is worth one thousand words.. And - I concluded - that this one tells it all.
Nature's perfect mandala.
A meditation in circular motion. A ritual. A dance. A practice. An art.
Just this.
Summer's last happy gasp.
Summer's last dance...last laugh...last color.
Summer's last ode to longer days...to lingering light.
I couldn't help but nod...as they nodded back. I couldn't help but smile...as they smiled too. It's as if we all knew what one another was thinking.
Yes - this summer season is now ending.
It's wilting. It's wasting. It's fading away. It's clearing space for all things new.
Autumn's first breath.