An Ordinary Miracle

In November I bought 3 amaryllis bulbs. Two of them thrived and grew immediately. The third bulb stuttered and hesitated until I finally re-potted it in a larger pot. Although the first two bulbs bloomed in December and early January, the third bulb is finally in full bloom this week.

It never did grow any leaves so I’m not sure if the bulb will survive another season. I still intend to try putting it in the ground outside next spring and summer to give it every chance to turn around and thrive. My hope springs eternal.

Here is a photo of the full plant, all tall and skinny. If you look closely you can see a second bud will be shooting up and blooming too.

How does it do all that without any leaves? I guess it’s

An Ordinary Miracle

Having had experience with previous bud stems suddenly bending over and breaking because of their top-heavy weight, I tied this one to a wooden dowel that I placed in the soil. It’s still leaning a bit so I may add a second dowel on the other side of the bulb later today just in case.

Though I thought I had had my fill of photographing amaryllis flowers for the season, I spent time yesterday and the day before working on getting soft macro shots of various parts of the flower. When a flower blooms I take the time to admire it and fall in love with it a little bit with my camera. Who am I to ignore an ordinary miracle?

Moccasin Flowers 

All my life,
so far,
I have loved
more than one thing,including the mossy hooves
of dreams, including’
the spongy litter
under the tall trees.In spring
the moccasin flowers
reach for the crackling
lick of the sun

and burn down. Sometimes,
in the shadows,
I see the hazy eyes,
the lamb-lips

of oblivion,
its deep drowse,
and I can imagine a new nothing
in the universe,

the matted leaves splitting
open, revealing
the black planks
of the stairs.

But all my life—so far—
I have loved best
how the flowers rise
and open, how

the pink lungs of their bodies
enter the fore of the world
and stand there shining
and willing—the one

thing they can do before
they shuffle forward
into the floor of darkness, they
become the trees.

   — Mary Oliver

Flowers are messages of love to the soul, I think. Their delicate transient beauty and sweet fragrances always touch me deeply. Do you also love flowers? What’s your favorite flower? I would be hard-pressed to pick a favorite. My favorite is the flower that is before me now in this moment. I am especially drawn to fragrant flowers like tuberose, freesia, peonies, lily of the valley, and gardenias.

I leave you today dreaming of flowers and how they “rise and open” before they “shuffle forward into the floor of darkness.” May you also rise and open and stand willing in the world.

May you walk in beauty.