'I could cry over these peonies, Mom.' My 7 year old said to me. 'Me too.' I said. We wait all year for these glorious flowers to grace us with their presence and in the span of 2 rain filled weeks, they're on the ground in tattered petals. Becoming part of our soil again... And each year, I get excited for their arrival as we watch their red stems unfurl. 'A weed?' someone always asks...'NO!' we shout protectively, 'These are the peonies.'
We have 3 plants. Each day of peony blossoming season is documented and reported. 'How many blossoms does the white one have??' 8 this year; the most ever. Theo's favorite is the hot pink peony - duh. I see him smelling it several times a day. But the real show stopper is the medium pink - the one by the road. We try to count and give up...over 50 blossoms. It's hard to know which part of the plant cycle is my favorite...I love when they're just round pink buds with all that promise of more. And then they open and make us swoon. Layers of beauty, a peony reckoning. A bright spot in a world that seems extra bleak lately.
Talking with an old friend the other day, I said, 'What is it about time that I feel it owes me something?' She explained that we are always in a push and pull of knowing life is fragile and fleeting while also hoping for the most time we can get. We try to capture time...I'm guilty of this on a regular basis. It's part of why I am so fascinated by gems - they are always attempting to stop time with their process of becoming themselves. It's part of why I make jewelry - to commemorate, to remember, to focus on a moment, to realize: this moment is everything. And to celebrate it with a physical piece you can see and touch and use to remember.
Happy spring my loves. I hope you have a moment to smell the peonies, rub your cheek on one, and maybe even shed a tear or two in heartbreak and gratitude for this fleeting moment of beauty in our world.
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