Sunflowers

There are some things in life I could not do without; essential things like water, the love of my family, the genuine support of true friends, and listening to music every day. And sunlight. The smell and sound of rain. Forests and gardens and lakes. I am grateful to step into Mother Nature’s garden every chance I get. These are the things that keep me grounded, rooted in love and growing in the resilience that I can handle whatever comes. I can. You can, too.

This spring the Carpenter planted a few of my favourite flowers, including four sunflowers in the garden boxes that border our patio. Watching these seeds bust through the rich soil and grow faster than everything around them was oddly entertaining.

Every day, I checked these plants. Sometimes, when I watered them, I talked to them. Yes, really.  Sunflowers are wise. Best conversations. They actually listened. These four giants kept growing steadily as other plants budded, bloomed and then withered away.

My sunflowers magically grew to such heights, their green stalks getting thick and strong, straight toward the heavens. Their big leaves were dotted with holes from the insects who dined on them. Eventually, the tops of the stalk formed large buds that looked like gnarly green puckered faces. Beautiful. The anticipation of the first reveal of golden yellow petals was a thrill.

Finally, it happened. To celebrate, I had coffee on the patio with Ringo Starr. Of course Ringo showed up first, despite being the shortest of the stalks. Though it’s not quite the Octopus’s Garden he sang about, our garden has gotten a little wild and it’s beautiful. It’s an oasis of a different sort.

Paul bloomed the next day. He couldn’t wait to share the limelight. His round face turned up to the sun, handsome and vibrant. He shamelessly boasts his brightness, pure sunflower joy, his stalk leaning slightly forward. It’s like he’s saying, “love, love me do.” And I do. Let it be.

John unraveled slowly the day after Paul, in his own sublime time. He is clearly laid back, even though he is the tallest of them all. He’s all about the peace, love and harmony, man, but not before 9am. I’m a Lennon fan. He knows it. He maybe gets a little extra water.  All you need is love.

Not to be forgotten, George joined the band, subdued and humble in his stature, but still quick to find that source of sunlight that inspires us both daily. Nourished to the core, he is a classy sunflower. My sweet George. Hallelujah.

Surely by now you knew I’d name the sunflowers. The Fab Four have inspired my musical heart for a lifetime, so naturally they have found their rightful place in my garden. Don’t worry, my sunflowers don’t actually sing to me. Or do they?

Look, all I know is if I head to the patio in the early morning hours, before the sun climbs up the sky, before dogs start barking, and the lawn mowers start whirring, I can faintly hear one of my absolute favourite songs, Here Comes the Sun.

Ours is a magical garden planted with love, that’s all I’m trying to say. And so begins another day. Here comes the sun and I say, it’s all right.

WriteOut of Her Mind