blossoms of time

When the mood strikes me, I email an inspirational message or a simple greeting along with one of my photos to friends, family and associates. This past week, I sent the following note:

just one of the many lush blossoms of spring…may your day be as rich as the colors of this bloom

This small gesture not only lifts my spirits but also presents me with various responses especially in reference to the photographs I select to accompany my writing. One of my very close friends felt that this rose reminded her of a floating sundae. When I looked again, I saw creamy strawberry ice cream with chocolate shavings, maybe cookie crumbles. My older sister remarked, “She has freckles.” I had to chuckle about her comment because it made me think of our Grandmother who thought freckles were something to be had; she also liked ice cream (in fact, she called one of her birth marks an ice cream though to this day I don’t know why). When I gazed at these roses, to me those tiny round brown dots were their age spots; I thought they added to the loveliness of the flower, which made me take several pictures before I walked on feeling weirdly content.

As I downloaded the pictures, I understood what I was feeling -- flowers don’t fight aging, they embrace it unveiling a changed appearance that with each shift reveals something exquisite…brown spots, thin translucent petals, wrinkled wilting stems...gorgeous!

I’m becoming more sensitive to the changes in my own body, skin and hair as each year passes. Those around me notice no real difference as I watch a new me developing. Some days I don’t know what to think when I look into my mirror on the wall and don’t recognize the woman I saw just yesterday. The flowers I admire and capture serve as a reminder that no matter what age we are, we are still the fairest of them all, still lovely blossoms in whatever time period we are passing through, so...

keep your peepers open!®