white wedding

Very recently my niece married the man who sets her heart on fire and makes her cuckoo.  I know they share much more than that first-love passion; they are spiritual mates too.  Their wedding was hastily planned (and not for the reason you immediately imagined) but because he is in the military and can be trained and/or deployed at any time.  It came down to finding a time  when the marriage was even possible.

So Lindsay, my niece, took matters into her own hands and planned a wedding that included only immediate family, occurred within 2 weeks from announcement, and the best of all, filled her soul with what a marriage should symbolize for her.  She found a wedding dress that was beyond my definition of a bargain, transformed it from a ho-hum cocktail dress and with lace and satin, converted it  into a true work of beauty (of course I see it as a reflection of her soul).    Then she planned her marriage outdoors, at the foot of a waterfall, and she showed up barefoot.  My LOL’s were heard far and near!

Because of the short notice, I was not able to attend (and probably could not have climbed to the waterfall anyway).  But had there been more time and had this week’s orchid cooperated, I would have asked her to allow me to make an orchid tiara of these wedding-white beauties.  I can’t imagine a more appropriate decoration to express the purity that she brings to this union.  My heart sends the new couple blessings and prayers that orchid delicacy and strength will always be a part of their marriage.

Pink Ball

I have no idea what this is or where it came from (I trust one of  you out there will tell me).  It is in a basket hanging in a tree that our agricultural agent thought was quite special (this occurred while my mother was alive and just before I planned to cut the tree down!).  Apparently there are varieties of this tree around but none like this one appearing this far north.  The AG agent took cuttings and flowers and seeds.  Really, I don’t know what he was doing but my mother would report his every visit and remind me I could not cut the tree down because it was “the only one.”   Even if it had been one of millions, I would not have cut it down.  Even if the AG agent story was totally fabricated, I would not have cut it down.  I would not have cut it down because to my mother it was important and the least I could do was treat it with respect, her respect.

My mother once showed me a copy of a printout that described this tree as a Tabebuia (further forwarding her contention that there was an AG agent and his assessment was that this was a rare tree this far north).  The difference in our tree was in the flowers; they were see-through paper thin and the most delicate lilac you have ever seen.  The tree was a mess of intertwining branches that were knarled and brittle.  I could not imagine that this tree was special…it looked more like a weed…but because my mother loved it, I protected it.

Hurrican Charlie came (my mother was deceased by then) and I was sure that this special, sickly-looking  tree would bite the dust, but it withstood the wind, watched many pines snap in two, lost one branch, and came back stronger than ever.  Finally, I gave up on giving up on this tree.  It has a home with me as long as I can stay here.

And the pink ball that hangs in the tree, unknown, unnamed, it has  a home too.  However, if any of you have any idea who these folks are and how I can make their stay more comfortable, I would appreciate your help.  They bring me joy and roots (and when I am speaking to them in secret, privately where no one can hear, I will mention that you helped save them too).

The trickster

 This is a plumaria, also known as a frangipani.  This flower has a wonderful fragrance that is stronger at night.  I read that the scent is stronger at night because it has no nectar and it wants to trick a certain moth into polinating it.  In high school, we called a person like that a tease!  Regardless, I find this plant delightful.

If I want a new plant somewhere else in my gardens, I just cut a limb off, let it dry out, stick it in the ground, and I have instant new plant.  It likes dry, well drained soil, so if you live in a sandy place, this is the plant for you.  Also, even though it loses its leaves in the winter, its torso is so unique and pleasing that I find it sculptural…free art and a conversation piece.

Its been a very busy week for me and for many of you too.  I hope this weekend brings you rest, relaxation, and if you are looking for it, nectar!

pink and blue bro

This bromeliad is special to me…not  because it is rare or spectacular, but because I know what it can be but I never know when it will become what it can be.  For most of the year it sits  alone as a not so spectacular green expression of bro-ness.  It’s a hardy kind of bro and really does not require much care to survive, but always when I look at it I think, “When will you bloom and show us what subtlety can be?”  Every year it blooms the most delicate of pink and blue.  The blossoms last for quite awhile (maybe not as long as some my orchids, but certainly long enough for me to reflect). 

To those who are like this pink and blue bro and who are not recognized because they do their work in a very quiet and reliable way, I dedicate this bro.

Pretty by the Pond

A colleague asked me what a good flowering plant would be to put in a container by her front door.  She wanted to see lots of color when she came home.  She also did not want to worry about fertilizer, bugs, deadheading flowers, or anything else that potted flowering plants need.  So, I suggested she not get a flowering plant at all, but go with the very colorful Caladiums.  I love this plant and have it in both the ground and pots.  It really does perk up a spot with color in the hot, humid weather of Florida.

This particular potted bunch are by my Koi pond.  I like to chill and stare at the pond area (some call it meditation) and I don’t want to dig up the area to put in new plants.  This movable feast of color suits me to a tee.

As I’ve said many times before, I am not a plant expert.  What I am is someone who loves to be with plants, who is soothed by them, and who receives inspiration from them.  What I am is someone who knows what makes her happy and what suits her.

My wish for you this weekend is that you too know what makes you happy and what suits you.

This orchid, I think it’s a Vanda, lives in my Banyan tree.  It’s been there for years and has spread like crazy.  I had the Banyan trimmed several months ago (it was on my roof and threatening the house), and the orchid has bloomed since then.  When one flower spike finally dies, there are many more in various stages of becoming, opening, showing, and declining.  It really has been spectacular this year.  I’m assuming the extended production has something to do with the tree trimming allowing early morning light to reach the big-as-an-elephant, horizontal Banyan limbs that are playing host to this orchid.  Regardless, I am thankful for the show.

But this picture has nothing to do with morning light.  This picture was taken in the evening just before sunset.  As you can see, the tree growth behind this orchid is very dense, so dense sunlight rarely gets through.  But this evening, as I was walking up the shell driveway and bringing in the recycling bins, I caught this shaft of light breaking through the leaf walls and illuminating this orchid in a dazzling way.  The illumination lasted less than a minute.  Fortunately, I had my iPhone with me and was able to capture it.

The title of this photo was inspired by and dedicated to a friend who was going through a nasty break-up.  I thought of her when I saw this orchid coming out of the darkness, glowing in the minute of light, and reaching one petal outside the iron bars that constrained it.  It reminded me and continues to remind me that no matter how bleak things look, there is always just enough light to reveal our inner beauty and strength.

I may be skinny, but I caught your eye!

You photo freaks out there will be disappointed this week.  This really is the most common, plain flower you can find in south Florida.  Not only that, but there is only one of her worth looking at.  Ah yeah, you are so right…but, she is blooming after the most horrible winter and before the summer rains.  She survived and blossomed,  so I think she deserves our thanks.

I don’t know about you and I don’t know what you use to pep yourself up when things just don’t go right, but I have always been able to count on something in nature distracting me  from my misery.  When I was younger and a writer/painter/poet person, I would write/paint/poetracize about pain and suffering and it was all true and I’m sure insightful, but the part I usually left out was how easlily natural beauty seduced me away from my drama and demise.  I did write a poem once about thoughts on suicide (every college writer did), but I ended it with the acknowlegement that I was saved by the kindest of gestures of being offered an egg salad toasted sandwich on rye with pickles.  Quite frankly, that situation is plainer and more beutiful than this week’s flower, however, it is the simplicity and tenacity of this week’s flower that reminds me of what keeps me going when things are not going my way.

This may not be the picture that takes your breath away but I hope the message keeps your breath going.  Keep looking, the thing that is beautiful is out there waiting to be noticed, especially by you!

Hearts on Fire

For summer, we are following a theme of the ordinary caught in extraordianry beauty. These little bros have no real fame to claim except whereever they are, they multiply.  Whatever the circumstances, they multiply.  Regardless of the throngs who will never notice them, they multiply.  They can grow on anything, anywhere, anytime.   And every now and then, when the sun is just right, they glow!

I am in awe and humbled.  I hope you are too.