Much earlier in the Summer, I was feeling a little bit sad. Nothing serious, mind you, just listless and in a bit of a grump.
I went outside in to the garden, which was woefully neglected this year and I stood there feeling like the warm growing months had passed me by, and I had missed my chance following a hard winter, our first with the chickens, which had taken our badly drained garden in to full on quagmire territory and not much had improved - it was mud central. My plans for flower beds and refreshed pots had been lost in the whirlwind of busy-ness and Summer weddings - I wandered up the garden though, to look at the state of things and see just how right I was (in my grump)...
BUT, don't plants have the most amazing way of teaching us a lesson? Even when neglected, things have a habit of growing. How is that as a metaphor for life?
Some mint - long ignored but sprouting none-the-less, a few Clematis blooms, pushing through despite a previous storm that broke off all the new growth and some Mock Orange blooming and smelling so, so sweet.
It felt like the most marvellous victory to gather these few little stems and bring them in to the house that evening. Popped in a little vintage lustre pineapple vase, and basking in the evening sun - rather proud of themselves. Their last job, lifting my mood and putting a smile on my face, completed.