everything’s changing but i still stay the same
To me, an ideal summer afternoon would go something like this: Walk to the beach in my white kaftan, swim in the ocean, walk back home all wet but feeling strong and invincible, have a long shower, bake some cookies and then sit down with some tea and a favourite magazine. The sun will warm my face and the smell of saltwater will linger on my skin as i flip the pages and dream about country homes.
With the magnolias blooming (and now the jasmine and cherry blossoms as well!), i can always pretend it’s spring, which means i can pretend that summer is not too far away. I love everything about summer, especially the long days, abundance of nectarines and peaches and the feeling of happiness that is evident on everyone’s faces.
But it’s still quite startling to see the flowers in bloom and i actually wish they would bloom when they’re supposed to, in spring. At the end of every winter, i walk past the jasmine bush and see the tiny white flowers blooming one by one; and then one day, almost overnight, it’s an explosion of white and i pluck some for myself. This is my ritual and to me it heralds in the start of a new season and the promise of warmer days.
But now, it’s the middle of winter and today, it’s so cold. When i see the jasmine, nothing makes sense to me. I feel disturbed. And for some reason, no one else seems to be as disturbed as i am. Jon listens to me rambling on about “The flowers! Why are they blooming now? They’re not supposed to!” every night and shrugs. He doesn’t have an answer that will satisfy me. He wants to offer sympathy but knows it is pointless.
It’s more than just being worried about climate change. It’s as if nothing is certain anymore. Last night, in bed, i told Jon that i’d like us to spend a year in America. Just like that, an out-of-the-blue-where-is-this-coming-from statement that i like to make right before we fall asleep. This morning, i thought more about what i has said and envisioned putting all our things in storage and leaving Australia. Just the thought of it made me anxious.
July 13th, 2008 at 11:12 am
It’s too scary to worry about the uncertainties of life - I’m trying to take them as they come, control what I can control, and know that it’s all part of some greater plan.
I wish there was some way that you and Jon could come to America - if not for a whole year (which, I agree, is nerve-wracking), then at least for a week or two!
July 15th, 2008 at 10:39 pm
Things that make us anxious are not always bad things… they seem so uncertain to us; but to God there is purpose and meaning. Who knows when the Spirit plants ideas in us? When we suddenly discover the things we were meant to hear (even though we were asking for something completely different). I am confused by all the flowering beauties; the Jasmine, the Magnolias… but I embrace their early entrace. I watch them unfold like ballerinas on spindly branches, and sweet scents in the breeze; the funny thing about plants is that they flower, they grow, they wither when the time seems right. It mightn’t be when we think they should; and we mightn’t quite know why… but there is something beautiful in plants having a delicate sense of space and time.
Take care dear friend,
July 18th, 2008 at 3:07 pm
Lovely blog here! I’m so glad you stopped by my blog (daintee) and left me that little note! I, too, have always dreamt of having a porch and had almost felt ashamed of myself for not making the most of it lately. But, as you read in my blog post, I’ve happily remedied that now!
I am jealous of the way your winters look! As I’m from northern Canada, our winters resemble more the Arctic Circle or Siberia while yours look closer to some of our summeriest days! However, I’m with you on the somewhat scary, uncertain vibe that unseasonal treats bring. It seems like mother nature should be the one thing we can depend on in an ever-changing modern society, and when she’s not there to back us up, everything seems awry. I will stay tuned in to your blog and put you on my blog reader! Thanks again!!