Thoughtful thoughts

I pruned and fertilized all the rose bushes on the front yard the other day.  

On a balmy November day—caring for roses I didn't plant and yet, I can still call 'mine'... November, and roses.  My heart brims with gratitude and thankfulness, and there, hidden in my heart of hearts, there too I hold a secret little sweet song. 

The view from our front porch takes you all the way to that part of the neighborhood where the last houses meet, and at the bend of the road, all of a sudden, there appears in front of you the dark and mysterious woods; silent, and dense, and encompassing a very large area where, once, new homes were meant to be, but never were.  And thus, there is only the voice of nature, and the greens and oranges and burgundies and yellows of autumn.

I replaced the little doves I had sitting on top of this birdbath in the front yard with the cherub fountain; or what was left of the cherub fountain, I should say.  Back at the house in the roses, the bottom part of this cute little fountain broke, and thus I didn't bring it with me, but I couldn't part from the cherubs.  So I took out the old pump, cut off the cord and make it into a cherub 'statue'.   I'm glad I kept the cherubs.  Love how they look here!

The white wicker set I had in our back porch at the house in the roses is now sitting in our front porch.  I still need to get some pillows, but can't decide on the color.  Oh and can you see him there?  Yes yes, that's him!--that mischievous cherub... One morning on a snowy winter day a year ago back at the house in the roses, I heard some giggles outside; the sound of scurry little feet all over the garden and then, when I went outside to investigate, that's when I saw it.... tattooed on the freshly fallen snow, the most inexplicable and mysterious tiny footprints... I followed those mysterious little footprints, which by the way, it seemed to have sprouted right out from under the cherub, all the way to some nearby bushes, but there was nothing... nothing.  The footprints disappeared... I could'n find anything... Who, or what, could have made those footprints in the snow?  Who else!  It must had been that crazy little cherub I'm sure!

 

I found some lovely 2-gallon roses the other day at Home Depot.  Out of the season roses? I couldn't tell, but couldn't pass without them either.   

They just look awesome in these awesome old mossy flower pots, don't you think so?

We can never really tell for whom we work or for whom we acquire the things we love; our most precious material possessions, don't we? I often find myself pondering about these things. On how one day you go out and purchase things you love, and you treasure them for a while, and you dream about it and talk about it and cherish it, but then there comes tomorrow.... tomorrow is not ours to hold, isn't it.

I love how the Apostle Matthew puts it: “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

I often think of my garden in the house in the roses and all the love and effort and devotion, and money too, put into it so that now another woman can enjoy it... isn't that sad?  But really, it isn't so if you think about it this way... my deeds of yesterday are making someone happy today. And that should be enough.

That's just how life is... here too, one day long ago someone built this garden by the woods, and bought these lovely flower pots and wonderful statuary that are now laying around here so that I can enjoy them.  I wish I can leave behind something else too when I'm gone... a legacy of some sorts that would benefit others in the spiritual realm.  Like love, faith, forgiveness, joy, and an interpretation of life as if through the eye of a child... that's the legacy I want to leave behind, scattered around my name, like rose petals.    

 

What would you like people to remember you by?