the blue muse

Some years, I miss them completely, these blooms that open when no one is looking and are past their prime almost before you can blink. This morning, I took a moment to sit in the garden before I begin another busy day, and there they were, spotlighted by the sun just peeking up over the horizon.

The bed they are in is still a mess, needing weeding and mulching and tidying up, but the flowers pay that no mind, nor do they wait for my attention. They reach for that sun, offer food to the bees, sway in the breeze.

I want to be out there, gardening, but I must be in here, working. At least I have a lovely view to keep me company, just behind these iris is a gaggle of purple allium, backed by a sea of forget-me-nots. From where I sit, it’s easy to ignore the weeds.

And that’s why I do it, this work, in here, and all the work I can barely keep up with, out there. A robin is singing his heart out just now, welcoming the dawn.

As am I.