My Peony Life

Last night, I remembered the peonies in my dream. Startled, I wondered: had I missed their blooming?

Many years ago, I dug a hole to China and planted the peony bulb in my yard – 18 inches isn’t deep until you start digging. I’d fallen in love with the flower’s ostentatiousness, its irrational exuberance, its beauty.

But the peonies’ bloom time is short. Had I somehow allowed life to distract me? Had I let that which I used to value so highly enter—and leave—my life without even noticing?

peonies

This is my life. Right on the verge of bursting forth. If only I don’t get distracted and forget why I did all the hard work planting the bulb in the first place: because I just love it.

here’s to creative synthesis . . .

bloom time, creative synthesis, irrational exuberance, life, peonies

Comments (2)

  • I was at a dinner party. The peonies were the centerpiece. When I realized such things could be grown in Memphis, I bought a bulb. I couldn’t believe it, really, when the bush bloomed. The bush is still small, and I’ve been told some re-bloom. This one doesn’t. It produces 4-5 huge buds that all come into flower at once, last about 5 days, and petal to the ground. I love it. That the bush is growing in my yard, how the flower lays it all out there, even the limited nature of enjoyment. If I’d somehow let it slip by me this year, I would have been very sad, worried about how my life was going.

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