Priorities of a Brainless Flower

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?

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Farewell, Little Fusser

She survived the storm, but not a wet branch.

A word so strongly associated with her breed

a fall

 it was a fall, that did her in,


Sometimes survival, it’s own form of danger and we don’t even know it.

Such fuss over a common squirrel.

This dead fusser taught me well, to fuss over things nuts?

Maybe there is something important about fussing over nuts and things otherwise roadkill?

The irony of life, the squirrel is now more nut than furry fusser.

Her little body will find a safe place beneath the ground just like a nut.

Ciao, little fusser, happy nut hunting in a place with safer limbs.