Wednesday, April 9, 2008

The Crocus Rises


There they are, nestled in the back border by one of the Serviceberries, (Amelanchier arborea).

We have bloom!

It was nice to see flowers at Hidden Lake, but seeing growth in the vast brownness of the backyard is much more astounding. Yesterday, when I was outside for hours cleaning up some of the brown leaves, sticks and other skeletal remains of last summer, I kept walking over to this lone patch of color. I am amazed at the miracle of nature’s perseverance, not least that which remains safe from the yanking, digging and trampling of the wild beast we call Lucy.

For three years, the little outcrop of bloom always reminds me of my dad, and of the kindness of friends. The Crocuses are in a little planting that came as a pot of flowers sent to the house by Jenna, Audee and Laura when my dad died. (That was in late winter of 2005). The flowers lasted for weeks in the house. The greens lasted into the late spring. Then I took the mass out of the pot and planted the whole in the back of the yard right by the Amelanchier. That tree was one of three I got from the saint-like Mama Zahn (aka Sharon).

I remember not being sure the flowers would have the strength to survive the winter. I didn’t know if they’d be hardy. Now they are lasting for years in the yard. I cherish the flowers, the memories of my dad and my friends.

And now I celebrate that they, I, and everyone reading this, have survived another winter.

- - - David

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

good morning dear friend
i read your entry and it touched me....
loved it...
i look around my own house and there are things that have history..memories ....the soap stone dish that aunt clara gave me..the book that my dad was reading when i was a kid...and no one knows this...only me....the things that have meaning to me have no meaning to my kids or gary....its like a secret world that we all have...the secret private history....
things that give me comfort that remind me of the past and of a person, time or event.
thanks for bringing the blog back and it does look magnificent!!!!!

Anonymous said...

Do secret memories make the memories sweeter?
I am trying to get my mom to write little notes on things. I thought if she labeled the back of photos and keepsakes, the memory could live on.
But would that ruin it for her?
Would adding a "secret" notation to your dad's book or your aunt's soapstone take away some of the magic?

discuss.

and thank you for your accolades, however undeserved.

Anonymous said...

Ok.. So I have a phobia of the written word. I hate to read old stories, diaries, and letters I have written. It devalues the whole memory for me, especially if someone else may have read it... Weird (or I'm the queen of revisionist history in denial). However, it would be cool if your mom wrote about the things she loved, and the stories behind them. She could put it aside to be read after she passed. It would be a fantastic gift to be opened and shared, but her secrets could remain secrets, as long as she lived.