Still, no killing frost in our part of Southern Ontario, although a couple of nights ago it was close. It means that flowers are still in bloom, a real gift as we approach the end of October.
In the Spring Ruth planted several Black-eyed Susan vines around our veranda and they really didn't do all that well, at least in the first couple of months. Yet when we came back from vacation in early September one vine had taken off, as though it was waiting until we were away to break into the house. All through the Fall it has extended across our front steps to the point we have to step gingerly to avoid doing damage.
Many people comment to us and ask the name of the plant. The folk who own the store across the street say that customers regularly look out their front window and strike up a conversation about what they see.
These vines are grace embodied, that gift which keeps on giving by unexpectedly doing what they are meant to do. Children often exhibit that grace and so do our campanion animals. We are delighted by their ability to bring light into our lives simply by being who they are.
Comments? Examples?
3 comments:
I love fall, but this time of year (where everything is about to give up the ghost) is bittersweet.
It's always a nice surprise, then, when your garden can give you one last surprise.
My office window always has a lot of spider webs and thousands of dead insects in them. Frequently, just three feet away, a bird will hover at the web and have a meal out of the "web kill". A pretty easy and free meal I guess. It is a pretty neat show.
Loved your parallel of flowers, children and beloved pets all creating those unexpected moments of grace. So simple and so true...
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