Today, Summer and Spring are playing tug of war. The air is warm. It wraps around me like a soft cashmere blanket comfortably snug and elicits a contented sigh. But the skies are surly and occasionally spitting seasonal reminders that Spring is still here and Summer doesn’t officially start for one more month.
This morning, on my walk home from the supermarket via my local cafe, nature commanded me to stop and be still. On the miniature park-like median strip were four lanky trees laden with thousands of buttercup stars shooting sweet perfume that danced around my head like playful fairies. I breathed in deeply, slowly and the scent wistfully scratched my heart with reminders of Summer and Christmas of yesteryear that I still don’t understand.
I came home and unpacked my shopping. I ate my crumpets with peanut butter and sipped my latte. I started writing just like every other Monday. But I was restless with longing and an incessant need to discover their true name.
This beauty cannot just be a tree, a flower, a scent. It needs to be named to honour its uniqueness and to forge a deeper relationship with its essence.
Eventually, with the help of a friend, I stumbled across its name.
Evergreen with creamy white and yellow flowers with a heady fragrance that for some hidden reason reminds me of Summer and Christmas as a child.
I smile. Exhale. Content.
I press my palms together near my heart and bow. I see your spark. I honour you.
What will you see, honour and name today?
|Native Frangipani, Richmond, Victoria, Australia|