Tuesday, May 7, 2013


There was a cluster of purple iris next to my house.  As far as I knew they had always been there.  Each spring they reappeared, never divided and only watered by the rain.
Purple irises with yellow throats.  They were so beautiful.  When I was eight I would play long hours of pretend, imagining worlds and fairies and critters living amongst the growing things in our yard.  And those irises, so tall and so grand, surely housed the queen.

I had forgotten all about the irises until late Autumn of last year.  While perusing the local nursery I noticed three gallon-sized pots with 3 or four ugly, spiky leaves hanging on to the last thread of life.  Of course, in this sad state, they were on clearance.  I purchased them, not knowing what color the blooms would be, if they even survived the winter.

Spring arrived and the irises appeared to be dormant still.  The same ugly leaves poked, unchanged, above the Knockout Roses that were growing and on the verge of bloom.  Then, last week, there appeared a long stem with a bud swelling.  I smiled when it bloomed bright yellow.  It floated proudly next to the white fence and seemed to shout a happy greeting every time I spotted it outside my laundry room window.  Then, a few days later, more buds appeared on the other plants.
They bloomed purple:

I am so happy to have my fairy kingdom back, to share it with my little girls and relive a sweet piece of my childhood.  I am thankful for sweet memories like this that return, reminding me of what was and allowing me to glimpse anew the wonder in such simple things.  

It is good to stop, good to slow and breathe in the beauty God has tucked into every corner of Creation.  For, indeed, all of Creation declares His glory if we will only take the time to notice.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Let's keep the conversation going...