days of glory

We all have a time when we deliver our best. Suddenly, in this moment of greatness, we are who we want to be. It passes, of course. We fall back on old habits, we make mistakes, we succumb to tiredness. We lived our moment of glory and we return to normal.

But we always have another chance at glory. It needn't be the case that the last time all the stars were perfectly aligned happened in the second grade and since then we have been teetering or even plummeting into a less inspired existence. Each and every year of our lives, we have a chance at glory (big or small).

My flowers -- they only have one moment per year when all is perfectly in place and their blossomy faces are at their best. And I'm thinking that at least for some of them, that moment is today.

It's a full day, but not so full that I can't appreciate the beauty of the July 17th garden. Of course, it isn't perfect, but it is glorious!


My first task is to clean the flower fields. (I snip off perhaps a record number of spent lilies: 545.)


(new this year...)






(the lily field is at its best when these orange front row beauties have their explosive show of color; this happened today...)






(the cheeps: morning meander)






(the wee bed by the parked cars...)






(a snippet of the front bed)






(for the love of milkweed...)






(surely this whole bed is at its most glorious...)






Breakfast comes next.






After, I visit Sparrow.






And then we pick up a joyous little Snowdrop. She has been drawing again...






Teacher and mommy admire her coolest piece of art. Sparrow naps.






We drive over to visit my mom. She has never met the little girl, let alone Sparrow. A photo is in order.






We can't stay too long. We have dance! (But before that, we pause for refreshments...)






What story are they acting out today in class? Madeline! "In an old house in Paris...."
                   





"She was not afraid of mice... she loved winter, snow and ice..."






Good night little girls, thank the Lord you are well! Now go to sleep, said Miss Clavel.








Evening...











The garden (and my children and their children) -- so glorious now, this year, this summer, today.  Snapped in photos, so that I can look back and love it all again, and again, even when time has pushed us into the next season and the one after.