The last lesson of the workshop I talked about in the last post was about finding beauty in the flowers and plants as they faded from their glory of the summer. Sometimes, it is difficult to believe that the dying flowers and plants can have any beauty. But, some do. The image I’ve included with this week’s post shows a yellow Missouri primrose in full bloom and what happens as the bloom begins to fade. You can see that it changes from the cupped yellow blossom to the spiraling look of a candle flame. Even the colors changed from pure yellow to red and orange! This candle shape is as beautiful to me as the newly blooming blossom.
Until Judith’s workshop directed students to really look at the fading flowers in this new way, I simply deadheaded those faded primrose flowers and threw them away. Looking at our environment in new ways is revealing. Really revealing.
Have you looked at what is going on in your environment? When is rained recently, where were you? Did you stay in the house? Did you go out on the porch to listen to the welcome rain falling to this earth? Did you see the water drops glistening on the spider’s web?
If you live in an area inundated by Japanese beetles, are you aware of the time there is a reduction in numbers of these destructive, yet beautiful, creatures? Are your blossoms attacked less because the beetles seems to have migrated to the ground to lay their eggs and winter over?
All summer long, from the beginning of the Japanese beetle invasion with significant damage to the flower buds – Peace rose, clematis, any flower colored yellow or white, purple rose of Sharon, and the grape leaves – yellow beetle traps hang in my front yard and back. Some friends chide me about having the traps hanging. “You are pulling all of your neighbor’s beetles to your traps. What good is that?” they say. My answer is that, while I may be pulling other beetles from other yards to my traps, it is okay with me. Every beetle that makes its way into my trap and dies there, definitely will not reproduce. I care not whether it is one of “my beetles” or one of my neighbor’s. My garage holds five or six traps at all times, waiting to be hung when the current one is filled. I never want to be without a few traps waiting for the next hanging.
It is great to be in the moment. The volunteer sunflowers growing on either side of my driveway have become attractants for birds. The seeds produced by the sunflowers are ready for eating, and eating is what the birds are doing. Chickadees. House finches. Sparrows. Mourning doves and robins eating seeds dropped on the driveway. And, I think, a male Lark Bunting, black with white feathers streaking its wings. I’ve never seen a Lark Bunting away from the eastern plains of Colorado. If this was the Lark Bunting, I wonder what drew him to this area to eat from the sunflower seeds. Some say that as Colorado continues to warm, the Colorado State Bird may move to Canada to be cool enough.
Be in the moment, if you can. See what is out there in your environment. With luck and persistence, you will see something new and wonderful.
Be safe and well.
The Cranky Crone
If you have thoughtful feedback or questions, please let me know with a comment below.
7 replies on “Fading Flowers”
You may have inspired me to check out painting. I’m more of a coloring book person…coloring in the lines -definitely.
One of the “blessings” of covid has been that I am forced to stay at home -no travel for work or pleasure – therefore I have been able to enjoy my flowers and nourish them. Now to bring some in before the frost gets them.
Lois, Coloring in the lines is good. That’s the way we learn to color outside of them, too.
M
I realized after reading this that I had not checked on my beautiful mums yet this fall. I’m just so focused on getting by. Thanks for the hint. My mums are gorgeous!
Being in the moment is really all we can do these days if we are being cautious. Hope and thoughts for the future are hard to come by for me. Seems like I am always looking down. But our last fleeting sprinkle, I was on the front porch enjoying the smells and watching the birds flitting around between the raindrops. Our monsoons never came this summer. Our wildlife suffered. Wondering what the fall and winter hold.
Primrose. Such a delicate flower. I too am learning to admire the afterlife of blooms.
When dad planted the Missouri primrose, I thought that I would forever associate them with him since he was born in Missouri. I was right. When I see these flowers, my thoughts go directly to him.
I remember the first “dead”flower that I thought was pretty. It was the milkweed pod that you brought into our house when we lived on Logan. At first, I thought that it was ugly because it was old and dried up. Then, you pointed out how beautiful it was with its shapes and textures. Thank you for that, ma.
I am enjoying these last few weeks when the night temperatures have stayed above freezing, allowing my rosebushes to bloom for one last time. This little respite between Japanese beetles eating all of the roses and the killing frost has been so nice. There are only one or two blooms on each bush, but that is enough to make me smile.
Thank you so much for not only sharing the beauty you saw in the fading flowers–love the candle analogy–but also a reminder to pay attention to our surroundings, to what is happening around us.