Can We Talk 2

Always Changing

Day 3112: May 25, 2021

Prompt: Write about a time of transition.


         Time flies. I've picked about a pint or more of strawberries from my deck. They were small this year because we had a cool spell in between warm weather patches. They turned red too soon, so they were small but sweet. Delicious.


         My white peonies are bloomed and gone. I deadheaded them today. I have three shades of pink, the pale one is almost done. The medium pink are on the shady side of the house. They don't get as big; maybe it's the variety, or maybe the extra shade. The dark pink ones are on the sunny side, but also have smaller blooms. They all smell great to walk by them. If you cut them, you have to check for ants before carrying into the house. That strong fragrance beckons the insects.

         The irises were beautiful this year and plentiful. Their purple beards were very deep, more colorful than many I've seen. I deadheaded a few of those today, too. I have to hit the main bed of them soon.

         The azaleas didn't do so great. I believe they were over pruned last year. My dad planted these things in the ground, and most are too close together. He couldn't predict how they would fill in his beds. Any digging and transplanting would be a major project, which I would be willing to undertake in the fall. However, since his death, I cannot afford to keep up the house much longer, and will have to sell it. I don't want to invest time and energy and my heart into something I have to leave behind.

         Just like the seasons move on and the vegetation cycles, we have to accept change, too. This house, this yard, hold many memories for me, many emotions. I don't want to leave it behind. I've been quite comfortable here. The location is great. The house itself is old and needs repairs. The furnishings are outdated, not timeless. The utilities, the taxes, the upkeep are just too much over the long haul. I'll be broke in a few years. I've tried looking on the bright side, that I can start over somewhere else. in a cheaper county, I can find a new church, make new friends, my next adventure. But I keep finding remarkable things like these flowers and I just don't want to leave them.

         Sometimes change is good. Sometimes we regret it. Maybe we can adjust and accept it.