Peonies were important in my growing up years. That was the 60s and 70s. In Edmonton, Alberta. They were important flowers to my Mom, Myrna. And to my Grandma, Fern. In rather scarce times, flowers like this were our abundance. It’s what we had. It’s what we celebrated.
This particular peony above is a gift last year from my friend Meg. I celebrate it too. Now with its many buds about to burst to hand-wide pinks and whites. And planted at our home where Dana and I flower our 60-something love.
There is a blooming instinct in most of us, isn’t there. Whether in the growing that happens as young people, or in the growing that happens in last thirds. It’s a desire to flower. To be appreciated. To offer beauty. It’s a desire to contribute to systems and circumstances with joy. To contribute in a way that affirms life. And celebrates bloom.
Yah. Excited about these peonies. And all this life growing.
“…and all this life growing.” The peonies there are ahead of the peonies here in Edmonton. You’re right about the abundance though; it’s quite a pop and bloom festival when it emerges. Thanks for sharing.
🙂