Flowers by Season

Recently, I had the chance to work for an incredible groom. He has challenged and beat cancer four times in his young life. Amazing. And you’d never know it. He’s in remission and he’s fit. He smiles and chuckles a lot. Even more amazing is his bride -- an incredibly beautiful girl whose outsides are an absolute reflection of her insides.

I couldn’t help it, and I asked him what it’s like to live each day as if it may be the last day. He said so simply, “Oh no, quite the contrary, I live each day as if it’s my first...” Whoa.

The wedding we had to create for our groom and his bride had to be spectacular, as if it was the first wedding ever and the beginning of a brand new day for them both. As I looked around in reflection that afternoon, it struck me how much every day in the garden is a first day. With each passing season, there is no day that is ever like another.

In spring, the daffodils pop up like newborn babies saying, “Look at me! Look at me!” in all their brilliant yellows. The hyacinth unfold saying, “Don’t look away from me... prrrr...” in their seductive lavenders. The garden roses flounce around in huddled bunches like a gaggle of busy grandmas preparing to bake tea cookies. The tulips rise from their beds like so many cabaret dancers in striped flapping skirts. The viburnum balls-up along its branches ready to serve as memory to the snowball fights of a fleeting winter for all the kids in the neighborhood. Everywhere the flowering fruit branches -- pear, apple, quince, and plum -- shower us with springtime reminders like powdered sugar on graham crackers. And all the brilliant greenery -- euphorbia, spindle, sycamore, fig, honeysuckle, hornbeam -- give shadow to this insane play of joy... living each day as their first.

In summer, the delphinium and foxglove and snapdragons stand tall like debutante beauties above their spring infill, commanding attention to their necklace-petaled beauty. The poppies and peonies and daisies and magnolia tease everyone like a group of busy hairdressers, tossing back their petals with a giggle and a whisper. The freesia and the lilies and the sweet peas come on heavy with a perfumed fragrance like so many teenage girls heading to the mall. And like a green picket fence, the lamb’s ear, fern, hosta, dogwood and lady’s mantle crowd together to frame this silliness, accessorized with a few nectarines and mulberries and raspberries... living each day as their first.

In fall the football mums come on strong like a homecoming queen in a princess ball gown raising a braided baton of goldenrod and tickseed in a twirl of firefly light. The dahlias and sunflowers hold hard like so many heavy headed chefs coursing a menu of warm soups and hearty stews. Cosmos and purple lace gleefully pop up everywhere like a bunch of kindergarteners heading to first classes on a September morning. The pomegranates and Pippin apples and champagne grapes all hang heavy on their branches like so many mother hens ready to lay their eggs. All this promise, edged by the flaming red, yellow and orange hues of forsythia, spindle, barberry, rose hips, scarlet oak and sweet gum... living each day as their first.

In winter, it’s the heartiest of the specimens that stick around to play outside. Like Eskimos bundled in fur, the blue spruce and garden ivy and rosemary and camellia and hellebore and mahonia and silk tassel bush keep busy, shielding the heather and the snowdrop and the holly berries and the poinsettia from the falling raindrops and January snowflakes... living each day as their first.

Flowers are temporary as they come available for one season at a time. Like fast and deep friendships we’ll know them but for a short time. As each, in turn, takes its moment in a new season’s spotlight, we’re suddenly reminded that another month has passed on this journey through our lives. In the ‘biz’ we talk about how long a flower will last — God knows how we get yelled out when they die too early! It’s funny though, thinking about flowers as I think about my groom and his bride. Flowers don’t think about living each day as their last. I think they live each day as if it’s their first; there’s so much to do! There are bees to flirt with, and butterflies to entice, and spiders to shield, and droplets of rain to embrace, and breezes to dance with, and warm soil to stretch their feet in, and cats and dogs to brush up against, and kids to laugh with... and grooms to make smile and brides to make blush.

They know there will be a time to give the stage to the next bloom, but for today they live as if it’s their first! And tomorrow we’ll always remember them as if they’re still here today.