Another Photo I Didn’t Share Earlier from my Springtime Adventure in a Rural Cemetery

When seated in the country cemetery I described in an April post, small strange clouds floated above, like spirits visiting from another realm.

A crazy concept you say? Perhaps, but it was just one of those moments–like people say about a hilarious experience that falls flat with only mere words to describe it – you simply “had to be there” to believe it.

Each season holds its special experiences. Spring and fall seem the most spiritual to me.

October is another month when I begin to feel a closer presence of those who have passed on. But in a positive way. Nothing to do with skeletons and scary seances. The feeling comes to me as I see trees at dusk silhouetted in the sunset, feel the heartbeat of the earth, sense the imprint of all who have walked upon it.

Alliums Dazzled My Neglected Flowerbeds this Spring

I’m a bit behind in loading photos sometimes. And I must admit I’m trying to put less pressure on myself. We all need to disconnect, immerse ourselves in nature, think about nothing . . . after following the news so closely this tragic spring.

Allium(s)? are one of my favorite spring flowers, but like iris, they just don’t last long enough.

They look so lovely and star-like in a mechanical sort of manner. Word to describe them accurately, obviously fail me today.

My brain needs a bit more rest.

Our most creative brainstorms come when we’ve cleared our minds.

Side Door into a Lovely Country Church

Here’s another picture from my spring morning churchyard stroll,which I posted about earlier. There’s something simply charming about the plain white door, neat sidewalk, plush bed of vinca minor,otherwise known as “periwinkle” or “myrtle” ground cover.

It was a perfect morning, very calming. I sat beside the vinca Bed for some time, contemplating these crazy times. The solitude, except for the melodic songs of birds, gave me hope and inspiration.

Parfait of Vehicles, Blossoms, Emerging Leaves

Springtime seems to finally be coming to the Midwest. This lovely seasonal view of a normally mundane parking lot seemed so unique I wanted to share. A momentary distraction from the recent worries we all face.

Buttercups Bring Memories of Earlier Days

Buttercups are symbols of childishness and ingratitude according to The Complete Language of Flowers by Sheila Pickles.

I don’t get the ingratitude part, but they do remind me of being a child, of finding true delight, amazement, boundless energy to explore woods and fields when spring pulls back the curtain of winter clouds, revealing a world of green and gold, the color of buttercups.

I remember when I first discovered these flowers, when I was about ten, hiding in a low spot in the field behind our house. I visited them there each spring, then one year transplanted some to the northwest corner of our house, where they grew reliably for years.

I also recall a kid’s book I probably still have in the depths of a closet, I think the title was Around and About Buttercup Farm.

It is said that buttercup juice blisters the skin but that it’s also been used as a remedy to cure gout and rheumatism, and, as a tincuture, to cure shingles and sciatica. (Don’t try any of those cures at home, or anywhere.)

This verse by Thomas Campbell (1774-1844) takes me back to childhood springs:

Field Flowers

By Thomas Campbell

 Ye field flowers! The gardens eclipse you, ‘tis true:

Yet, wildlings of nature! I dote upon you,

For ye waft me to summers of old,

When the earth teemed around me with fairy delight,

And when daisies and buttercups gladdened my sight

Like treasure of silver and gold.

 

 

 

 

Happy Mothers Day 2020 in Spite of Closed Restaurants and Predictions of Snow

This stressful spring seems to never end and now parts of the country are experiencing wintry weather when we’d rather be strolling aisles of greenhouses, bringing home flowers to plant for our mothers.

But like the hope of a mother for the future of a newly born child, we must remember that all things pass. Maybe, just maybe, when hot weather does arrive, it will burn out this virus.

But until the danger disappears, immunity comes, or a vaccine is developed and administered, we must continue to wear masks and social distance.

That won’t stop us from remembering our mothers in some way, whether we reside with them, or they are separated from us, as residents in nursing homes; places where precious citizens reside whom we must continue to protect as they are the most vulnerable among us.

If you can visit your mother, deliver dinner – her favorite takeout or a meal you cooked yourself.

If you can’t see her in person, connect via phone if possible, or send flowers. Think positive. Stay warm. Celebrate memories. Sunny days will eventually arrive on both a figurative and literal basis.

 

Lilacs – Flowers of Love and Death

Lilacs are said to symbolize first emotions of love. But white lilacs have dual associations of youthful innocence and also death.

Supposedly a white lilac will refuse to bloom if another lilac in the garden is cut down. Some say it’s bad luck to bring a white lilac into the house.

I don’t know about those concepts, but to me lilacs symbolize the fairest time of year – early to mid-May, and Mother’s Day. I recall picking a bouquet many years during young adulthood, as a gift for my mother on that holiday.

Their sweet scent was a welcome perfume in the kitchen where the purple – and yes, we had white ones too— blooms ruled the dining table for days.

The lovely photo is from Sheila Pickles’ The Complete Language of Flowers.

 

 

 

 

Periwinkle, Myrtle, Vinca Minor – Names for a Sweet, Charming, Little Purple Flower

Periwinkle

Lines written in Early Spring

by William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

 

Through primrose tufts in that green bower,

The periwinkle trailed its wreaths’

And ‘tis my faith that every flower

Enjoys the air it breathes

 

What a charming little poem about periwinkle, myrtle, vinca, whatever one calls the trailing vine with the simple, pretty bluish purple blossoms.

My mom referred to it as myrtle, the catalogs seem to call it vinca, though it differs from another non-trailing vinca now popular in garden centers.

The Complete Language of Flowers by Sheila Pickles mentions many former medicinal uses, and says it is one of the oldest of flowers.

The poem mentions of its trailing between primrose plants, and I always planted it in flowerbeds, to accent taller plants and keep down weeds.

 

 

The Library is Closed But Flowers Still Bloom

Love the lemon yellow daffodil against the sizzling pink creeping phlox.

This library flowerbed used to be more extensive but at least some of the plants still bloom as I sit in my outdoor “car” cubicle. I enjoy working outside but can’t wait to pick up new books when someday the building opens.

Ohio is supposed to begin opening businesses the first of May. Though I questioned the closings initially, now I believe we should all stay separated a bit longer to quell COVID-19 and prevent huge spikes of cases in the future.

The BBC praised Ohio Governor DeWine for reacting to the crisis while others waited, but now I feel he’s jumping the gun, falling to political pressure.

Who would think politics would enter into suppression of a pandemic, but sadly that seems to be the case.

At least the sight of these flowers is renewing my optimism, on this dreary drizzly April day.