Showing posts with label Daphne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daphne. Show all posts

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Plant Promises




The gusting wind woke me and kept me from sleep.  It was well below freezing, and I, right there in the middle of the night,  promised my Daphne that I would cover them from the harsh wind first of the Things I get to do today come morning.  Their tender little flower buds were already fat and pink, the fragrance still concealed tightly inside.






But when morning came, the flower buds looks browned and "burnt" from the cold and low humidity. It seemed too late. I thanked them for trying.  There would be other flowers.  There would be other years with less harsh winters.




But now this morning, two weeks later, the snows and ices all melted, the smallest flash of a flower caught my eye over breakfast. Was it really possible that the Daphne kept its promise of blossoms and fragrance and bliss though it was too late for me to keep mine?

Thursday, March 7, 2013

In the Detail

That's where life is lived. The fine points are everything. When the Things I get to do today bring flowers of the season into my house, the details have a chance to shine. I look for them. There is always a delicious surprise, too small to be seen by passing folks with other things on their minds. But for us, for you really, there is this--a precious green cup to hold the lit candles of this Lenten Rose. Blessings abound.



Monday, September 10, 2012

Life From the Sky

Daphne with its morning drink





It's been over two months, now.  This morning before dawn, before being even slightly awake, I could smell it through the open bedroom window.  Moisture on parched earth--the finest of perfumes!

On a fragrance wheel, perhaps it was between "fresh" and "woody."  An artist of the trade would talk of head notes, heart notes and base notes.




Fresh rain:  fragrance that can't be bottled


No rain for more than two months makes rainy Portland a very dry place.  The Things I get to do today are all now soothed with the balm of this heavenly substance.  The fully-ablaze zinnias are shining wet.  Leaves that have felt only hose water for a very long time are refreshed and serene with real water.  They and I say the fragrance is a blend of "heart" and "heaven."