“Just living is not enough. One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower…”
Today, I hadn’t considered a slice of life I wanted to share, but then I saw the quote Kathleen wrote on the post and I liked it. I let that be my inspiration. First, I read “The Butterfly” by Hans Christian Andersen–the fairy tale from where the quote came. Butterfly is looking for a spouse among the flowers, but doesn’t find one he wants to settle down with. Finally, he gets pinned down and stuck indoors. Here is a sweet passage about the daisy:
The French call this flower Marguerite and say that it can prophesy. Lovers pluck off the leaves, and as they pluck each leaf they ask a question about their sweethearts, thus: “Does he or she love me? Dearly? Distractedly? Very much? A little? Not at all?” and so on. Each one speaks these words in his own language.
The butterfly came, also, to Marguerite to inquire, but he did not pluck off her leaves; he pressed a kiss on each of them, for he thought there was always more to be done by kindness.
Yesterday I watched an art project video that included grounding oneself in the earth, and I wrote about it here. But I did not take time yesterday to go outside, as it takes quite a few hundred steps to get past the concrete and bricks that surround me. Instead, I just stayed home and did the art project.
Today, however, I did go sit in a garden. I thought I’d look for a companion for Butterfly. There were so many possibilities…
The frangipani, or plumeria, so splendid that it needs two magnificent names to handle its impact. Long-lasting and sweet-smelling like the flower garlands around the necks of celebrants and honorees.
The impatiens are anything but impatient. They hold their hand open wide and welcoming. At the same time, they line the sidewalks like strong little bodybuilders willingly doing the heavy-lifting in this summertime heat.
The intoxicating oleander, beautiful but bitter.
The bougainvillea running all over the yard like a wild party, but they are ready with sharp claws if you take advantage.
The tiny bouquet-within-a-flower of the lantana, a medley of colors. They seem so wholesome, a homespun treasure.
I couldn’t decide either. I just pressed a kiss on each one and left them in peace.