Those who know me well know that I am somewhat of a “flower child” at heart. I love having fresh flowers around the house. Throughout my college days, and later, as I moved between different apartments and cities, buying flowers became a weekly indulgence. Whether it’s fragrant rosemary clippings from the backyard, wild blooms from the market, or a fresh-cut pick-up from the grocery store, putting flora & fauna around the house is an instant mood lifter for me.
I think it’s important to pay attention to the things in life that bring joy and happiness to our daily world – small things especially. Over the years, I’ve come to appreciate flowers in all of their stages. While before I used to throw away any flower on the brink of death, today I embrace the decay. Aging flowers are really a metaphor for all of us, aren’t they? Fragile, fleeting existences that show their age with time.
These days, I’ve learned to find inspiration in the paper-thin skin of a fading rose petal, the drooping neck of a tired tulip, the dried memorial of a hydrangea in bloom. It’s embracing beauty in all of life, especially that which is on the verge of something new.