Blackheath Chronicles 6

Easter Sunday

 

Lord it is time. The summer was so immense….” 

So starts one of my favourite poems about Autumn. This one being Autumn Day, from The Essential Rilke, elegantly translated by Kinnell and Liebman.

I woke to a grey sky filtering down soft light on everything. Perfect for wandering around the garden and for photography. Miles and I joined Mom in one of the garden rooms and got an update on the latest and greatest. There’s a yellow aloe in bloom and an orchid underneath a flowering bush has put out a flower stem. 

The orchids are showing off a bit right now. A yellow cymbidium on the front stoep has put out 4 flower stems. One of them is flowering right now and the others will soon open up. Mom has forgotten the colors of the ones about to bloom so we wait to be surprised to see if it’s the white, maroon or cream flowers that will grace us with their beauty.

There’s been a lot of garden maintenance this week. I was merely an observer as Mom and her helper dug, tugged and moved things. I had the urge to do some home maintenance but that could just be because I was procrastinating with my writing projects. 

It feels like nature wants me to pause a bit. There’s a kind of silence this morning that I appreciate. Traffic is less frantic. Only the birds seem to be at work. Flowering shrubs are bobbing their heads in the soft breeze and Miles is snoring after our garden walkabout.

It’s a perfect Easter Sunday.

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