Painting With Light

“Tulips” © R.L. Herron

We planted a lot of tulip bulbs earlier this month, adding quite a bit to our garden.

Looking at all the freshly dug earth when we were done, it seemed like a lot of work with little to show for it. Once the ache in my shoulders and hands subsided, it was tempting to forget the flowers altogether.

I know there will be a riot of color next spring, but it didn’t seem like much comfort right now.

I couldn’t help thinking it might be better to just wait and plant something already blooming next spring, than to go through the effort of planting, nurturing and weeding in the hope something would grow.

That thought came to mind again last weekend at, of all things, the retirement party of a dear friend … and I realized I was wrong.

I looked around the crowd gathered for the event and realized the seeds of so many friendships – just like those flowers – had been planted years, or even decades, ago.

Many of us now live in cities and towns quite separated from those where we first met. We don’t see each other as often as we used to, occasionally going years between meetings.

Yet, when we gathered for this special event, it was as if we merely took up where we left off long ago. The friendships blossomed again, just like those tulips in the spring, and once more there was color and laughter and joy.

Made me glad we keep planting and nuturing all those beautiful, perrennial things in our life.

This entry was posted on October 25, 2010 at 11:33 pm and is filed under Lifestyle, Non-Fiction Writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.