These are the last blooms of the year from my small garden. Each flower pictured has been extremely tenacious. Two grew from seedlings, one has an expensive pedigree, one re-homed to me, and one has changed its color entirely to survive, me. Sometimes I look at the flower that changed its color and I’m a little annoyed it’s no longer the color I wanted, but then I think I can’t really say anything because I pretty much forced it to change color. Can plants throw a protest? Maybe.
I used to love my garden; In the last few years, not so much. Despite my neglect, there are plants that have refused to die. I have pushed some of them to their limits more than once, they still made a cheerful come back. Sometimes I have looked at these flowers and wondered, are they stronger than me? Do they understand life better than me? Are they motivated by death and/or life? I’m always amazed how they insist it’s very important they bloom before they fade away. Maybe we should all be so tenacious about blooming?
Dust & Blooms 
Beautiful wistful post