During the winter, time can go at a snail's pace for while it's an active time beneath the ground, we don't notice daily changes. Most of us wouldn't mind pushing the hands of time forward. In spring the opposite is true, time seems to fly and daily wonders abound as wave after wave of floral delights spring into bloom and fade as their reproductive imperative has been accomplished. I, for one, would very much like time to slow down at the moment.
For the last couple of weeks I've been enjoying the blooms of the finally-increasing clump of Iris japonica and decided that there were enough to bring a few inside to enjoy. They'll be gone all too soon.
They're joined by forget-me-nots that are everywhere in my garden right now. Just two types of flowers thrown together quickly to allow for more time to play outside. As usual, I also put off my homework for a Monday class until Sunday night and needed to get that done too.
Three small vases. The two Iris weed pots were made in Alaska by a potter named Redwood Dahlke who died at a young age. She was my pottery guru in the 70's.
The third vase was a gift from a dear friend many years ago. It's never held a flower before.
Added to the vases is this tiny clock, the gift of another friend, a soprano who sang in a choir I once directed. Marjorie was a giving soul who sang until shortly before her death. The clock sits in my kitchen and needs to be dusted but was left this way intentionally.
There are extra forget-me-nots lying at the foot of the vases. These will soon wilt and bring to mind the final stanza of the poem "Go Lovely Rose" by Edmund Waller:
Then die - that she
The fate of all things rare
May read in thee:
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
How fleeting is beauty, how brief our time, how quickly races spring. May we all take time to savor every moment of this resplendent season.
