Nothing More to Pick
A Conscious Choice to Let Politics and Flowers Be
November
is in its early days, but nonetheless has been full of surprises—not all of
them sweet. Central Florida folks welcome the relief of a cold front this
morning. This resident hopes the air will cool the flames of too-passionate,
often misguided debate and commentary (including my own) springing forth from
all sides regarding the election. I intend to step away from all things
political and focus on the best possible life for myself and those around me. That
best life brings me to the dirt, the grit of what sustains everyone, regardless
of their preferred color on Electoral College maps.
My
personal dirt, like my politics, is a mix, so I’m often surprised at what greets
me in the garden. Gardenia blooming season is long past, the scent of the buds
and blooms only a faint memory in November. Those memories were stirred awake
when I noted a gardenia pressing its bud into bloom this morning. No spring and
summer gardenia, this one, it’s cramped in its bud, struggling to open. The
petals are tinged brown after the bite of the cooler air. The scent struggles
as well, and pressing my face to it, only a trace of sweetness touches my
senses. But bloom it does, in spite of its struggle, in spite of the tug of war
between hot and cold days in this season. I, too, find myself hot and cold, and
wanting to settle into an even temperature.
I am
tempted to snip the bud and bring it inside, but like so many other aspects of
November, I think it’s best to just let it be.
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