Showing posts with label flowers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flowers. Show all posts

Monday, December 12, 2011

The Christmas Cactus


A little less than a year ago, I received a Christmas gift. It was a Christmas cactus with a note attached explaining that if I took good care of it, next Christmas it would bloom.  I set it on my desk at work, and as the new year began I made a pledge to myself that despite my decidedly not green thumb, in this case I would channel my father the master gardener and tend lovingly to this cactus, in hopes of seeing the promised Christmas blooms.

The Internet is your friend in cases like this and I found a wealth of advice on how to care for a Christmas cactus, with promises of abundant blooms next holiday season.  I conquered my sense that it would be hopeless (based on the mourned deaths of houseplants past who were unfortunate enough to be under my care).   I acted on faith alone and  entered a repeating note in my computer calendar for each Tuesday morning that said:  “Smile.  And water the Christmas cactus.”  Each Tuesday I did just that.  

A few months ago something told me to move the cactus to a sunnier corner of my office to catch the western sunlight.  In early November the Christmas cactus pushed out many promising buds.  By Thanksgiving, glorious pink blooms emerged.  And they’ve continued to grace my office with their happy color all this holiday season.

I assure you that I am grateful for the many ways this past year I’ve seen proof that faith can work miracles and bring unexpected blessings; I wish both of these for each of you this Christmas season.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Autumn in Boulder

One of the most beautiful times of year in Boulder is fall. It is mid-October—we took a walk along Mapleton and nearby streets this morning. Even with a cloudy sky there was a certain mysterious, luminous quality to the leaves, especially the orange and red ones. For some reason, despite a couple of freezing nights, many flowers are still going strong and this is heartening. New buds are even forming. Winter is not here yet – it is a beautiful autumn. We ended up circling around to a Pearl Street coffee shop for a little journal writing, or “noodling” as M calls it. A couple of gray- bearded homeless guys sat out front on the low brick walls surrounding the flowerbeds, talking, smoking and reading the newspaper. One of the regulars, the skinny guy with the pirate hat, eye patch, and skull and crossbones flag who often sits with a small entourage at this spot, was not in evidence although his cart and flag were there. It is still reasonably good weather for these guys and they are probably managing okay for now – later in the fall and winter it will be a lot harder to see them outside in all kinds of weather.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Mitchell to Blue Lake Trail

Yesterday morning Mark and I drove up to Brainard and hiked Mitchell Lake Trail most of the way to Blue Lake. As we had hoped there were plenty of parking places the day after the holiday on a weekday.

It turns out Mark has very fond memories of this trail, recalling a hike he took on it with his Dad and Shannon, when Shannon was about seven years old. He remembers there was a snowfield near the top and the three of them had a snowball fight in summer – a happy memory.

We let two pleasant looking yet chattering women past us, and then headed up the pine-shaded trail, the light dappling the rocks, ferns and fallen logs in that way I love. I took lots of pictures. The smell of pine was deep and delicious. We stopped at one point and stood very still, listening to the peaceful silence in a moment of Zen. Only the rush of wind through the trees and the sound of running water could be heard.

Further up, Mitchell Lake was in a tranquil state, the water glimmering shades of brown, gray and green. As we moved above tree line we could look down below to a series of small lakes and rock formations, while above the clouds moved and reformed and grew as though alive in the blue sky overhead.

We made it far enough to sit on a promontory overlooking walls of talus and a fall of water staining the otherwise sandy-yellow rocks a darker gray. The water tumbled into a small stream below lined with bright green plants and a few alpine flowers. Mark spotted a fat marmot who, startled to see us, hustled away up the talus and was quickly camouflaged by the surrounding terrain. That’s the first time we’ve seen a marmot in the mountains in perhaps fifteen years.

We ate our ham and cheese sandwiches and rested awhile, then headed back down, our bodies protesting the long hike back over rough rocks much of the way. It was a wonderful day, and Mark asked me to send the best pictures to his Dad to help him remember that other happy hike long ago.

Monday, September 3, 2007

Summer Flowers

As the summer ends I want to hold fast to the memory of the beautiful flowers Mark's green thumb has kept blooming in our yard. They have given both him and me hours of joy, even though they are a lot of work. By sharing them here, I give a little past homage to my father's practice of sharing his Indiana garden flowers with friends, neighbors and nursing homes. Even though Mark and I don't pick the flowers and deliver them to others, we share them with the neighborhood and I now share them here.

There can be something calming about watering the garden and keeping it groomed, and at the same time it is a chore that calls to be done over and over again in the hot, dry Colorado summer in order not to lose the flowers to the heat, a chore that makes us ready for Autumn when it comes.

There is an essence of healing in flowers. Mark has created a small garden in the front yard we call the "Yellow Garden," which is one of the first sights I admire in the morning, and one of the first I am glad to see when I return home from work each evening. It always cheers me up.

It has several varieties of yellow flowers including a yellow snapdragon that brings back the memory of my grandfather first showing me how the snapdragon got its name, by holding the flower and squeezing the little jaws to open and close them like a little dragon.

Each year Mark says it was too much work; he will scale back or discontinue the gardening next year! And each year spring comes around and he has new ideas for expanding the yellow garden, or planting more morning glories.

Sunday, July 8, 2007

On Fern Canyon Trail

Today I hiked up from Devil’s Thumb to Fern Canyon Trail until it became so steep that I had to stop. Along the way I saw many wildflowers and tried to capture them with the still relatively new digital camera, but alas I am an amateur. There were several people on the trail, all friendly and happy to be there. The craggy area to the right of the trail was closed off to preserve wildlife, including eagles said to be nesting there, although the sign was circumspect about this and did not disclose the eagle part, probably to discourage exploration that would disturb the nests. There was also a statement clearly meant for climbers that mentioned a permanent closure of the area to climbing if climbers violated the closure period (I guess the $1,000 fine and 30 days in jail wasn’t enough of a threat).

I kept my eye on the sky but only spotted a chickadee on an upper branch, no big birds. I also spotted a black squirrel with his pointy ears, peering down at me from an upper branch, skittering around the tree trunk in alarm and making a bruck-bruck-bruck sound reminiscent of a chicken. I tried to capture him too with the camera, but was unsuccessful. Oh, well, if you insist, here is my best shot. I haven’t yet learned to click the shutter first and ask questions later. I missed a bee on one of the flowers the same way. I was happy to see a bee, given the dire news about the possibility that cell phones and other interference are confusing the honeybees and preventing them from their usual pollinating flight patterns.

As I spotted species after species of wildflower my thoughts turned to my mother who loved to quote the scientific genus and species for plants as she spotted them on a hike. I have tried to identify a few of the flowers I saw, in memory of her. I think that this one is a Siberian Aster, Aster sibiricus.

I also saw a yellow cactus flower. I think the cactus is a prickly pear, Opuntia phaeacantha, but am not sure. This is the first time I remember seeing a cactus flower in the wild.

Headed back down the trail I noticed some purple thistles, quite beautiful in their varying range, from flowers to fluff. The wildflower book mentions a variety called Hooker's Thistle, Cirsium hookerianum.