This morning I had breakfast in the garden. I didn't eat a thing, but felt stuffed while viewing the buffet of baby buds, newly blossomed petals, deep colored leaves and a large dandelion sprinkling on the lawn.
I had no intention of dining. I had gone out to pull the annoying weeds whose taunting from the kitchen window finally sent me outdoors.
However, all my annoyance vanished as I let myself see what was happening beside the growing weeds.
It began with the Azaleas. I swear, they did not look like this yesterday. They were little, tiny buds. Now they have pop corned into large kernels, with a few opened, pointed, pink, stars.
It seems they have a mind of their own. The Azaleas on the East side hold tighter buds, not as eager to blossom as their cousins in the North garden beds.
The older, heirloom bushes, also on the East, are proud to show off their flower-power.
And again on the East, a newer bush, close to the ground is trying to make a name for itself among it's elders. It has a cocky attitude, a bit of a show off as if telling the heirlooms, "I'll still be glorious after you are long gone!"
Leaves of the oriental fire bush are ablaze in a red and orange glow.
Only one yellow blossoms remains on the Jasmine vine. She has already done her thing and is ready to give way to a leafy vine, but no more flowers during our hot humid summers.
Yesterday one tiny blossom was opened on our potted Verbena. Today a full mound of blooms have sprung open.
But, clearly it is the Japanese Maple that steals the Springtime show...
...dangling her intricate spiny blossoms from branches abundantly adorned in brilliant wine-colored leaves.
She shouts, "Glory, glory, glory. Hale to the Creator of Heaven and Earth."
I hope your Monday nourishes you in ways you do (did) not expect. I hope you take a small walk around your day and hale it's glory, weeds and all.
Yaya
