First, I feel compelled to share this photo (above): photographic evidence that I am capable of growing zinnias. I love this photo (I think it’s from summer 2008?) and every year, when I plant my zinnia seeds, this is what I envision. Alas, I’m here to tell you all the zinnias I planted this year are gone. I suppose some never were. Just like last year, I’m guessing the seeds fed the birds and the seedlings fed the bunnies. All I know is the patch of soil where they were planted (and where I swear I saw them sprout!) is empty.

Like my metaphor-fest in yesterday’s post about the molehills, I did ponder what another zinnia-less summer must mean for me. Is the universe tired of me wasting time on things that don’t last? Are there perennial pursuits in need of my attention? Have I inadvertently offended Antheia, Greek goddess of gardens?

Then, yesterday, I came home to these waiting on my front porch.

My fella sent me flowers “just because” and, just like that, I stopped thinking about the flowers I won’t have in August and focused on the flowers I have right now. I also started thinking about other flowers I can create – painting, embroidering, sketching and scrapbooking. Maybe there’s the message I’m meant to receive?

I saw an ad this morning for an online painting class – colorful florals – and for the first time in a long time, felt the urge to pick up a brush. That’s worth paying attention to, not the flowers from my past or the flowers I might grow. There are flowers in my living room and now in my mind’s eye. They’re what’s meant for me.