Purple Pillars

 

Hindsight, as they say.  How we apply now to “yesterday”.   Perhaps it is not that our innocence fades as we age.   That it isn’t about being naive as a child to why we find peace in a flower’s display.   Perhaps it is that we are wiser than we know when we are six, seven, or eight.   We are able to hear the essence of our hearts without the crescendo of external noises getting in the way.

It was a circle in the middle of our yard that radiated purple each Spring.  I can still see its clusters of growing stems as I mowed around it in a circular ring.    Perhaps my memory is skewed slightly, yet I remember this bed of irises as being center stage.   Directly out my upstairs bedroom window I could observe this multi-bearded display.  

Gosh, did I think that then of these delicate yet sturdy purple, white-etched, yellow stinger hidden in the middle yard mates?   Did I think their pedals that folded down were beards in some childhood imaginative way?  With pedals that folded up to the sky yet seemed to also cover their heads in hiding.  Or perhaps I thought it would be fun to be small enough to be wrapped in their petal wings.

Maybe it was the color purple, though I think I admired the brown and yellow irises when those I would also see.   Maybe it was their blooming that affirmed Winter was officially asleep.   Maybe for the moments when childhood seemed a little murky, they were symbolic of a rainbow to me.  Or maybe it was as simple as my love of Nature started to awaken inside of me with this cluster of flowering beauty.

Though the house and yard remain, long gone is that same circle of purple to greet the inhabitants now.    I’m not sure how many years ago these purple gems ceased pushing through the dormant ground.   The child in me would like to imagine they missed their friend who waved from her bedroom window, so they decided to pack their bags and begin a journey.   Inch by inch, season after season, they made their way to a corner of our property.   Oh, how excited they were under ground in wait until they would see in an adult a certain set of little girl eyes.  

Ah, my long-ago friends, what a wonderful surprise!   I have missed you so!  Thirty-seven years is way too long, I know.   Thank you for being a joy in my life when I was a little girl, though I didn’t know then the imprint on my heart you were leaving.  I’m so grateful after all this time you have found me!  Bloom, oh, bloom, to your heart’s content, your beautiful purple majesty.  

Ah, yes, once again, as I imagine being tucked among your pedals, I feel…

Peace.  

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