Floral Thoughts

Grandma Cary ran a flower shop for years out in Ontario. She taught me the art of boutonniere making at a very early age. For a while my sister owned a shop too and it was a fun place to exercise creativity and work among the petals and stems.

At one of my earliest jobs, having my own little desk, I would often stop at a florist on my drive in and pick up a few stems to brighten my workspace. Who doesn’t enjoy the color, variety, fragrance and sense of happiness that indoor flowers can bring?

These cheerful flower girls on my desk in a vase once had roots that fed them nutrients from the soil. They once lived in the sunshine where they danced in the breeze and grew without care. Their new indoor life of tap water and fluorescent lighting would invariably result in a gentle journey towards stagnation then inevitable decay. Their water grew slimy and the once precious blossoms silently gave up the ghost.

The vase does not have to become the tomb. Wash it out. Rinse it clean. The decaying stuff in the murky water used to sustain cheerful daisies, clean and fresh. Time and conditions have their way with the health of a thing. Or a heart.

Bring on the free flowing water, let it run down your soul with a cleansing effect. Let it rain. Keep it fresh.

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