Bloom of Winter

Pink is a color of hope.  Don't ask me why I know that, but when things are "in the pink," they are doing well.  When a person "pinks up," it's a sign of good health:  pink cheeks, pink in the finger nails.  So when I see pink at my front door in winter, I'm most certainly inspired.

Right next to the front porch grows a camellia bush.  It's had various shapes over the years as it and I work out a deal over how much space it can occupy.  It would like to crowd visitors off the porch, and that seems inhospitable to me.  It also, however, comes forth full of hope at the beginning of winter.  Buds, tight as little pebbles,  have been maturing for months.  Our first weeks of cold and frost slowed progress, but came early enough to spare the flowers.  Buds, closed tightly, are not fragile as are the petals fully exposed.

Photo by Julie Furber, DDS

With our recent rush of warm air, blossoms have thrown caution to the compost and are extravagantly, unashamedly, flashing their full glory--right here in front of God, neighbors, passers-by, and you.  Not concerned about the consequences or outcomes of their irrational display so close to possible browning, wilting frost and ridiculous odds, this Apple Blossom camellia uses the moment for this moment.  Do it now.  Do it deliciously.

Live my grandest vision and bloom in winter:  Things I get to do today.  Be brilliant, be vibrant, be alive. Be, be, be.  In the midst of general struggle, hard work, challenges, problems, we'd all feel better if someone, somewhere were blooming, holding hope, giving it their all and their best, living their highest right, refusing to give in to the cold, wet, dark winter in any form.  May your soul pink up with this bloom of winter.