Grace is never quiet if you listen.
A single rose was floating in the pool this morning. The petals were evidence of it’s voyage. I guess the wind could have delivered it to the pool. I don’t know. What I do know is it will remain a mystery, because how it got there is not half as interesting as why it is there.
A deep breath accompanies curiosity. The rose had landed precisely where common sense says it shouldn’t be. There is a message here; there is always a message with things like this. I guess there is logic and the possibility of a chivalrous husband, but since he is also the pool guy, scratch that.
The brilliant contrast of the neon yellow-orange petals, to the turquoise, grainy, pebble-tech of the pool invited the photo. A gentle nudge sent more petals afloat and with them, regret, and a sense that I wished it would stay intact forever. I wanted more time, more photos and another cup of coffee while I played with it. Rescue efforts were fruitless and I laughed thinking about all the flowers that have graced my kitchen counter, compliments of my pruners. It was different this time.
What was it trying to say? It is just a flower, right?
Certainly there is perseverance in the rose as it stays afloat in the face of adversity. It’s presence has made a profound statement, and I chuckle to think I am playing with a flower at 6AM. The truth is, I enjoy this simple moment in time, and as the petals fall away, nostalgia reminds me of the passing of time.
The passing of time.
I wait for the photos to download onto my computer, remove the coffee cup that I had placed on my calendar, and look twice at the calendar. That message I was talking about?
Today marks the anniversary of the passing of two friends.
Have you ever met grace?
The Daily Post: Grainy