The beautiful moments are often arrived at through a circuitous journey of challenges.
In other words, life.
A thing to be much valued.
On a stroll through the garden yesterday, the GrandToddler reached out and plucked 3 blooms from their stems. Back in the house just before our Mother’s Day lunch began, she walked up to each of the 3 generations of mothers present and handed each person a flower.
Then she looked around at her dad, grandpa and great aunt and decided they each needed a flower as well. So back into the garden we went. This time, I followed behind a very determined 3 year old and watched her choose and pick the flowers.
It’s been a beautiful spring – cool, which means the blooms last longer. And in case you’re wondering what that cage is doing among the pink and white bleeding hearts, yellow daffodils and pale pink tulips – it’s to protect the bleeding heart plant from rabbits. They like some of the tender stems in our garden.
Until I took the above photo, though, I didn’t realize that the front garden in spring is very colourful, but the back garden is more subdued. The white trillium below (Ontario’s provincial flower) grows in patches and occasional singles throughout the back garden.
I must have planned it that way and forgotten.
Or maybe not. Such is the life of a forgetful gardener. Makes for delightful surprises every spring.
Whatever the reason, there are patches of both white and blue flowers throughout the back garden. Below is one of my favourites: the forget-me-not, which self-seeds so prolifically, I think of it as both a perennial and an annual. It grows between stones or wherever it pleases.
It’s been a rough few months but I’m so glad to be alive. Among my happiest moments is time spent with our grandchildren. Did I tell you we have a second granddaughter now? What a sweetie. And so alert. She’s been grinning and “talking” back to us since she was 8 weeks old. Lifts the heart.
As I did with the GrandToddler, I plan to start taking her on walks through the garden before long.
Life is made up of many and varied moments. On one end of the spectrum, some are brutal, yes. Trust me: I know. But many are beautiful.
Flowers from a grandchild, and grins from another, rank right up there with the best of them.
I hope you are doing well,
Cynthia.