wildflowers.

“Flowers are the music of the ground…”

~Edwin Curran~

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Here are some buttercups I took a photo of when I was hiking in Kananaskis early this summer. The trouble is that I’m frequently distracted by precious and rare little beauties like these along the trail… I don’t mind, but it’s potentially a bit dangerous, as hiking trails are notoriously uneven, root-riven, and frequently meander along steep mountainsides.

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I’m afraid there’s nothing for it; I must stop and look. And touch. Not every exquisite little splash of colour smells as sweet as the wild roses, but there is enjoyment to be found in a moment passed with every single one. I feel like saying to them, in a voice I’d use with a child, “What a pretty girl!”

One thing that so appeals to me about wildflowers is the way they grow and bring bright and lovely colours out of uncultivated, sometimes seemingly barren patches of ground. When I think of all the effort we put into getting just the right soil mix in our gardens, it amazes me what the earth can bring forth all on her own. Spotting these little gems feels to me like finding hidden treasures in treacherous, out-of-the-way places.

This reminds me of these wise words I read several years ago:

They buried usbut they didn’t know we were seeds.”

~Dinos Christianapoulos~

 

It’s funny, isn’t it? Serendipitous. I’m inspired to push up toward the sunlight, through the rocky challenges I face, and bring out the best beauty and sweetness I can, in spite of tough conditions.

Here are some gorgeous ones my son sent me the other day:

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How nice it is for us to be able to ‘send flowers’ to someone we love from far away, with no costs or delivery delays…

So blessed,

Leah 

wild roses.

“God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.”

~J.M.Barrie~

…or, in my case, God gave me a camera phone so I can have roses in April.

In December, I have Christmas to cheer my heart. By late April, my soul is really craving green leaves, rosebuds, and fresh little blossoms.

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The snow is pretty well gone, but the ground is still mainly grey and brown where I live. I remind myself that spring has sprung when the days become longer; I try to focus on and celebrate the increasing daylight. This is necessary for me. I’ve learned by sad experience that March and April can find me feeling more than a little low if I wait for mild, greening weather too early in the year for where I now live.

So last summer I went outside by the river and collected these photos of wild roses, to tide me over until our short but sweet rose season is back.

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How pretty are they? And they not only look delicious, but smell so sweet I could drink the scent. It’s something I look forward to all year. I can just breathe in the rose-scented air and feel so refreshed. And I know I’m not alone in this adoration of roses.

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When we lived In England for a few years, there was a huge rose bush outside my kitchen window, in the back garden. The roses it grew were blush-coloured, and abundant. I’ll never forget the simple pleasure of standing at the kitchen sink and looking past the hideous orange and yellow tiles someone had unwisely decorated the backsplash with… to my bountiful bush of blooming beauties through the open window.

So blessed,

Leah