Flowers On Fridays

Are y'all sick of my poetry jag yet? If so, you may have to skip this post and catch up with me on Monday! I'm going to the Eno (that's a river) with my youngest (frog boy from the pictures the other day) for a third grade field trip today. It's got me thinking about how much I love to be outside. I love the lushness of this time of year! I adore plants my mother says are essentially weeds - irises, wisteria, and honeysuckle. One of the nice things about how slowly I move through the world is that I have plenty of time to enjoy the flora and fauna. The honeysuckle in particular has been delightful the last few Saturdays. That light, sweet smell just drenches you as you bike by! I feel sorry for people who live where there is no honeysuckle. If you happen to be one of those people, you must come visit me. Do you even know what you're missing??

I also love old fashioned flowers like hollyhocks and peonies. Have you stuck your face in a peony blossom? Heaven! (Well, except for the ants you might get up your nose if you inhale as deeply as I do.) They bloom around Mother's Day and this year, the first year in our new house in our new state, I discovered peonies blooming in my yard!! I wish I had a scratch n' sniff blog so I could share them with you. Instead - this is as close as I can get.

Peonies
by Mary Oliver

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers

and they open ---
pools of lace,
white and pink ---
and all day the black ants climb over them,

boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away

to their dark, underground cities ---
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again ---
beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open.
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?

Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,

with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?

© Mary Oliver

Have a great weekend training and racing (and recovering and spending time with your sweet families and all that good stuff!) I look forward to hearing everyone's reports!