Antiqued blooms and letting go.
It’s Sunday. A day of rest, reflection and quiet thoughts.
Our hydrangeas were gorgeous this year. We planted them the year we moved into our home, shortly after our wedding. They have settled in and absorbed the favor of the sun just as those who live on the inside.
Our neighbors commented this year on the beauty of the soft purples, vibrant pinks, and colors the soil produced at the hand of God. I enjoyed the praise and delighted in the blossoms each time I came home.
Today my husband mentioned that the blooms were starting to wane and needed clipped. He promised room would be created and energy made available for new growth, and more vibrant colors would come.
I hesitantly stepped into the humidity, the grass still damp from the evening and with my clippers in hand I said goodbye to each bloom.
There’s something mournful about clipping beauty from that which was once vibrant to make room for that which you cannot yet see.
Perhaps I don’t need to go into the mountains to have the Lord use nature to whisper to my soul. Perhaps that very truth is the reason we all need a little bit of nature.
Truth is whispered in quiet meadows, antiques blooms, and stories told on the wind as it plays the strings of the tree limbs.
I packed those blooms into my beloved Tim Hortons box that was previously delivered with my favorite coffee and I took them to the large brown bin labeled “yard debris”. I couldn’t quiet bring myself to dump them, and so a few antiqued clippings went to my fountain and a few still sit in that same box on top of the bin. The rain is coming again and I can see them from where I sit inside.
Clearing what once was to make for beautiful things that are promised is the story of our lives and specifically the life of my family today.
Today marks a shift. New beginnings. It’s Sunday. I mourn my blooms but look with hope. This week my family will travel from across North America and even Guatemala to come together to celebrate a new beginning as my sister weds someone deeply beloved to our hearts. Someone who came in when the blooms of her life faded and promised new life. He delivered.
For the first time since my nieces were born we will all be together as a family and maybe it’s new beginnings for all of us.
So many elements of my life need pruned to make way for beauty. Room to grow, energy to redirect, and new beauty just waiting to blossom.
O. J. Cartwright
July 1, 2018You have clearly painted a picture with your words here, sweet lady! Just as focused to the thought as your photos are to the subject. You give emphasis where needed, add a bit of clarity, an adjustment of light or darkness; words, like leading lines, to guide the mind along the path of your tale, a bit of bokeh in the background for a pleasing effect. I enjoy reading your words and thoughts almost as much as I enjoy your photos. Best wishes to your sister and her new husband, and, of course to you and Keith and to your family! Enjoy the festivities and take pictures, of course. Can’t wait to get together with you and Keith in August, for the Washington Workshop.
TiffanyReedBriley
July 1, 2018Oh my sweet OJ, these are perhaps the most precious words ever said about my writing and I’m going to save them and tuck them away into a special place. Thank you. Xoxo thank you so much.
Peter
July 1, 2018Very nicely expressed…
Maureen
July 2, 2018It is so hard to prune beautiful growth like this. Such a lesson when we think about how God prunes us in our seasons too. Thanks for sharing your heart through this story.