Flowers are beautiful whether we notice them or not.
And sometimes in the flower garden the sheer number of flowers may mean individual flowers – their own exquisite beauty, their own delicate artistry, all that makes up the characteristics fairly shouting their identity – are not seen.
But then there she is.
And you stop, right there, and you find yourself face to face with one somehow not like the others.
As you look closer, taking the time so necessary to appreciate the details you otherwise would have missed had you hurried on by, you cannot help but see and love and – almost as if it were possible – hear this little blossom even speak to you, softly laugh with you, shyly smile back at you.
Kind of like people, crowds of people, hurrying by.
But then there’s that one.
And you stop, and stare, and see.
You see her character, resilient as the stalk.
You enjoy her conversation, reflecting deep roots.
You delight in her companionship, refreshing, that blossom smiling back at you.
She’s the reason you return to the garden.
