I once borrowed a very expensive sports car and was cruising down the freeway when I was pulled over by the highway patrol. When I protested that I had been carefully driving under the speed limit, they cheerfully agreed. “We just wanted to see what one of those looks like up close. Have a nice day, now.”
This white bearded iris reminds me of that car. It appears to be dancing fifty miles an hour while it’s just standing still!
Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, Under the shade of a coolibar tree, And he sang as he sat and waited for his billy-boil, You’ll come a-waltzing, Matilda, with me ~Australia’s national song, written by Andrew “Banjo” Paterson~
This red and blue-green giant agave plant calls the Thompson-Boyce Arboretum home. I often go visit this amazing place, about half-way between Apache Junction and Superior in Arizona. I find peace here, and plants that never fail to surprise me and enrich my life.
What I like best about this plant is its glowing diversity of color.The combination of hues, probably evolving to attract pollinating insects, lures me in as well!
Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things. ~Robert Brault~
It was a western facing window in the afternoon. You can tell that by the sunflowers turning their faces toward the sun just as little Ellf was. Mac, on the other hand, was staring drowsily at the photographer, me. The two found comfort in the warm sun and in the closeness of each other. That was all they needed.
Perhaps we look too hard for happiness. Content lies often in those things the closest to our heart. Warmth, companionship, flowers, and…kittens!
It’s good to be just plain happy; it’s a little better to know that you’re happy; but to understand that you’re happy and to know why and how…to be happy in the being and the knowing, well that is beyond happiness, that is bliss. ~Henry Miller~
My father always grew cosmos in his summer garden. He would proudly bring a bouquet into the house and my mother would display them on our kitchen table in the same small glass vase each summer evening.
Although both my parents are gone, I still have the vase. And each summer I grow the cosmos of my childhood.
The name cosmos comes from the Greek and has two distinct meanings. One is “an ordered universe.” The other is “ornament.” I fancy that my modest cosmos flowers bring order to a universe that is often in need of ornament!
We have what we seek.
It is there all the time,
and if we give it time,
it will make itself known to us.