Saturday, September 3, 2011

at least they were white

I wielded the garden hose, morning, noon and night today. We haven't had much rain, and I thought I heard a couple of my plants coughing.
Roses greedily gulped down the water, it barely had a chance to pool.
Echinacea leaned gratefully towards the spray and the Bergamot rewarded me with a heady, mint like scent.
Later as I watered in the cooling evening air, moths surprised me, startled as they were by the unexpected icy blast.
It reminded me of my friend's wedding day.
We had purchased hanging baskets in the spring in anticipation of her late summer wedding. It is almost impossible to find lush baskets for sale in August, and we hoped to pamper a host of white bloomers along through the hot summer months and bring them to their prime for the big day.
Home they came from the greenhouse and under our shady deck we hung them, out of the heat and wind. They flourished and filled out, pale and pretty as befitted their bridal destiny.
The festal day arrived at last and we tenderly unhung them and gingerly transported them.
The wedding was to be outdoors in a shady bower.
Chairs were being drawn into a semi-circle as we arrived with a flourish of flowers.
One by one, they were lifted from the truck and lock stepped into place.
They sat atop pillars like great green and white orbs. So beautiful.
After the final "I do," as pictures were being snapped and clicked, we bore the flowers into the golf course dining room to augment the decorations.
It seems strange to me even now, that after moving the flowers hither and yon, including a ride in the back of a truck, that they waited to yield their secret until the wedding reception was beginning.
In fact, it was almost on cue, like doves being released, that white moths burst out of the greenery and headed for the rafters. At least they were white.

No comments: