Into my Soul

One of the pleasures of this particular farm is that the children have plenty of animals and playground things to get them excited about coming. What they don't realize, is that I am JUST as excited about coming for my own reasons. Namely, the flowers.



This year, Corynn and Andrew seemed old enough to occupy themselves with said wooden toys/animals while the Mama gets to leisurely stroll through the greenhouses so I gave them a trial run.

The rules were:

1) They HAD to stay together
2) They HAD to report to me before they switched to a different area.

( A water wheel that I would LOVE to have a certain husband build for me someday...hint, hint)

It worked out magnificently. Adele stayed with me, walking and eventually strolling. Because the children were off playing nicely nearby~I could stroll leisurely along with no distractions and no hurry. I made round after uninterrupted round-just savoring. No time constraints. No "I'm tired, let's leave." Nothing but the beautiful sweetness of time standing still.



Flowers are medicinal to me.

After a week of heavy clouds in sky and soul, I needed their tonic.

There is so much detail to drink in, so many delicious honey smells to savor, so many colors to cheer a soul. There is such vastness in the minute details that The Artist created, one can never tire of studying and admiring them.

Droplets lingering.

Curls unfurling.

Spikes giving birth to petals.

Hanging, twining, promises.

All, little gifts given, to those who will take the moments to notice.

I can't spend tons of money on flowers, but I don't have to. I did purchase three small single annuals to create my own pots and a large, beautiful honey-smelling Snow Princess hanging basket. It is the most heavenly-scented plant I have ever known and I kept being drawn back to that row, just for the smelling.

I thought how lovely it would be to have honey wind float about me as I read on the patio...and I splurged.


Mostly though, I just admired. So many stresses in my life these days just seemed to melt away as I would walk through another row, another time.

Time that seemed to stand still, really only SEEMED to, because by the time I had been satiated by the trip, we had been at the farm for four hours.

It was the best four hours of the week.