Dead Lilacs
The terrible thing about death is that it transforms life into destiny.
It would appear I’m obsessed with destiny lately. Maybe it’s the march of time, being on the other side of 50 and noting how quickly the seasons change. How May is coming to an end, and the blooms from my beautiful lilac bush which were so fragrant for two weeks, perfuming the night the air as I sat on my porch, are now brown and deadened, the scent now a memory.
I am grateful for the experience of it, though. Not everyone has a porch or a lilac bush. In fact, I had no garden for 5 years at my previous house - the house of divorce, my master’s degree, my assault, and the man who left because I was assaulted. There were many reasons to move. And I am glad I did (honestly, I have a post about it but it feels too risque to share at this point. We’ll see for future…).
This is my first summer with a garden and a porch. I am glad. But the specific joy from one nature gift lasts for such a brief time. The fr…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to In Conscious Motion to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.