The Kitchen Sink

Fanciful.
Philosophical.
Waxing poetic.

All apply to my yesterday.

I spend a lot of time at my kitchen window.  It’s above my sink and so gives me a look at the world outside as I do all of things that are normally done at a kitchen sink.  I have put a lot of time and energy into the landscape outside that window.  It gives me great pleasure.

Yesterday, I saw it as a window on life.  There was a lesson for me every time I visited the sink.

The early sun shone on my Morning Glories, lighting their faces to an iridescent blue tinged with violet.  Do they know that their beauty is breathtaking and their time is fleeting?  Or are they cushioned by youthful faith that time is eternity?  Such mindless loveliness cannot be sustained but begs to be enjoyed.

The grape plant has wound its way around the trellis, full and rich and barren.  It’s new this year and is a lesson in patience.  Time and toil will train these rampant vines to be useful.  With judicious training they will live their best life and provide years of fruit.

The rose bush sent up two buds.  The tender pink is heightened only at the base of the buds and on the edges of the petals.  They are ready to burst into full bloom in a triumphant stand against the end of summer.  But the bush has a to do list.  The spent hips must be trimmed for other blooms to take their place.  If the trimming isn’t done quickly, the waiting time for more blossoms will increase.

The Sun Gold tomato plant is generous. It sprawls over the spent bulbs from spring flaunting its importance.  The sweet jewels drooping from its branches are proof that care and feeding produce fruit.

There is a villain in the piece.  The wall of bamboo is a friendly fence creating privacy and intimacy. But it has escaped.  It is forcing its way between the grapevine and the Morning Glory.  Its lone shoot is the visible sign of an enemy that lurks underground, the dark underbelly of the lacy stalks, which sway in the breeze and create a sense of coolness on sweltering days.  Now that it is free, it will be a source of constant labor to tame it.

The butterfly bush has passed its prime.  The fragrant purple spires have faded to gray bundles of dryness.  It spreads its generous branches and holds its place in the garden. Strong and abundant it waits to be cut back so that it can gather its energy for next year.  Older is good for the Butterfly Bush.

There is a time for everything in my garden…and in my life.  And there is work to do in both.  I am reminded of that at my kitchen window.

Comments

  1. Very fun! Once you got started I bet it was fun to come up with a personality for all your plants. Keep going…I’m sure there are more. xxoo

    Like

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