I know this may sound strange, but I believe flowers have personality. Some may not be easily seen, but others just sing like no other. It is evident in their lean, their poise, their and skyward gaze. I realized this especially while at the gardens this past week. Strolling among the rows of flowers, I spied one particularly interesting flower. She spoke to me. After that, I have tried my best to be more quiet… more intent on seeing their gaze and trying to interpret their stance.
With that, I share with you my own personal view of several flowers I met while invading the silence of their summer garden…
Sally cocked her head gently when I greeted her. She was curious. No one had bothered to ask her how she was doing before. What should she say? And perhaps more importantly, how should she say it? She stared at me quizzically for a while and then smiled while answering “Fine, and how are you?” Obviously, that was not the entirety of our conversation. She went on and on about the Daisies and the Petunias. She even tried to introduce me to all of her friends. Once I got her talking, I could barely get her to stop. I tried to remain a pleasant guest, but at last, I had to back away from the flower bed and slowly trudge home, waving goodbye.
Emma sat at the back of the garden. She was always aware of her state of mind. At the moment she felt stressed, she released her cares to the wind and raised her eyes skyward. In that pose, she felt kissed by the strength of the sun. Revived, she continued to linger on, watching the trace of clouds dancing across the sky. She hardly noticed me there, watching her watching the sky. She felt at peace and I felt at peace just watching her in the afternoon sun.
Olivia is never certain her hair is just right. She always tucks it behind her ears and then resolves to hide her tresses beneath her bonnet. She is shy and quiet, but always aware of what is going on around her. She knows the name of every single flower in the garden, knows their moods, their likes and their wayward ways. She is the one who always steps in to solve a problem, even when the other flowers begin to quarrel. Often, she is quiet, but when she wants to be noticed, she makes sure she is heard.
She smiled when I passed her. I smiled back and asked for her name. “Sunshine,” she answered gleefully. She was glad to be noticed. From all the flowers in the garden, she was the one you were sure to remember. She stood with poise and always held a firm smile. Of all the flowers I have encountered, she has always lived up to her name, even in the rain.
Jocelyn was afraid to let go. She was not yet ready. Mother told her she needed to grow on her own, branch out and meet other people. Jocelyn, however, was afraid of her own shadow. “Perhaps tomorrow,” she would promise, “Just not today.” She often cried at the sound of the blowing breeze and was frightened by the strength of the blazing sun. Finally, in an attempt to steady her poise as another wind blew, she touched a leaf and grasped hold tightly. “Don’t worry little one,” the leaf gently whispered, “I will never let go, until you are ready.”
Darla noticed my curious stare. She was hidden beneath the branches of a towering tree. She was full of life and she dazzled above the blades of green that embraced her shadow. She was alone, but I was held in her gaze. “Hello,” I said, “And good afternoon! My, aren’t you a beauty!” She smiled and then pulled her petals tight. She bashfully answered, “Gosh, you didn’t have to say that!” You could tell by her smile though, that she was ever so delighted you did.
Sophie always seemed to have a hard time, sharing the lime light with her sisters in tow. There were too many to count and she always felt she was trapped in their shadows. “I am one among many,” she sighed. She pouted slightly and this was when I noticed her. “Yes, my dear you are,” I responded, “But no matter how many, you’re still able to shine.”
Isabelle stood near the edge of the gardens. While all the other flowers danced in the sun, she kept her gaze on the clouds drawing near. She could smell the scent of rain and already felt the gloom of the looming clouds. She lowered her head sadly as she realized that soon the fun would come to an end. She had just started joining in, dancing in the sunlight. I saw her there, gazing at the ground. She had thought that all hope had been lost. As the first few stray specks of rain fell haphazardly from the sky, traces of water slowly made their way down her cheeks. “Don’t worry little one,” I promised, “The rain shall soon come to an end and the sun will shine again. Always hold on to hope.” She strained to meet my eye, perhaps a bit shy to allow me to witness her tears but then she held a slight smile. The other flowers and I decided to cheer her up. We helped her make her own sunshine, while dancing in the rain.
(c) Sumyanna 2017