hope and promises

Playing in the dirt is good for my soul.

There is nothing like it.

Yesterday. Today. 

Everyday if I could.

Today was extra special.

This afternoon I dug up some bulbs at a friend's house.

My dear friend Eileen planted them years ago.

It was with much pleasure that she chose and buried them.

When they bloomed, she shared their bounty generously,

sending bouquets home with me.

She sold the house. I have done yard work for the out of state owner.

Every spring I go out and relish the beauty of those blooms,

cutting bouquets to bring home and enjoy, just like always.

The owner of Eileen's place is looking for a buyer.

Which is a game changer for next spring if it sells.

I wanted, 

no, I think I needed, 

to have some of Eileen's flowers here at my house.

To be reminded of lessons I learned as we worked together.

Lessons about life and love,

sharing and enjoying simple things,

of generosity and serving,

of working and resting.

Those bulbs represent hope and promises kept.

The plain brown bulbs get buried in the ground.

Winter comes, bringing with it shorter days and colder temperatures

but come spring, the drab bulbs will send up shoots of green

that in the proper time will produce beautiful flowers.

They are clustered across the front of my out building

where I can see and enjoy them from the window or porch.

And you can bet come spring

I will be looking for those shoots of hope and promise

to push up through the ground and break forth in radiant beauty.

"Consider the lilies, how they grow:
they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory
was not arrayed like one of these."
Luke 12:27
(I am well aware that these are not lilies, but the idea is true none the less.)