Flowers Speak the Language of Love

In the desert city where I live, flowers have been bursting forth in all their multihued glory for several months. As usual, I prepared for this and for the even greater extravagant display of summer by doing the necessary work in my small patio garden. Once again I am feeling the joy of being in harmony with the cycles of nature.

When I was a child, there were so many farms and so many people involved in agriculture that many of us had relatives who were dependent on Mother Nature for their livelihood. Today the majority of people are urban dwellers, and I realize that life is so fast-paced in our global culture that nature is becoming less and less important in our lives. The great sadness is that when we forget our natural connection with the Earth, we miss out on a vital part of what makes us human.

I still believe that no matter how removed we are from the soil, something within us responds automatically when we sense the changing of seasons. In the spring, it may be noticing the first flowers bursting forth – or it may simply be an inner knowing that once again something mystical and magical and beyond our ken is happening deep within the Earth. Yet in that fleeting moment, we are reconnected to the Earth and grounded in the truth that we are one with everyone and everything on this planet.

Each time I begin the prescribed gardening chores, the welcome ritual is enough to bring forth a rush of cherished memories. I realize that nature and specifically flowers have always been a special part of my life.

I remember once again the rainbow-like Japanese flower gardens that stretched as far as a child’s eyes could see. My family drove to the outskirts of our city often to share this stunning vista with visiting relatives and to buy huge bouquets of delicate sweet peas and stately stock that had such a strong aroma I had to hold my head out the car window for relief.

When I was in my early teens, an entire hillside around a lovely mansion was seeded with African daisies every year. As they reached full bloom, the wide swath of color was not only a beautiful sight; it also heralded summer – which was enough to set our imaginations on fire with expectations of adventures to be savored.

As I grew up, there were always flowers to mark special occasions, like my first corsage for a school dance, then proms, birthdays and a wedding, followed by anniversary bouquets. I also vividly remember that when my son and daughters were small they would pick anything that resembled a flower and present it to me with bright shining faces and open hearts.

When my first marriage was breaking up, flowers helped me get through that sad period. I lived in the Pacific Northwest at that time. While it was still snowy and cold outside, I planted some Red Emperor tulip bulbs in pots, put them in a large cardboard box, covered them with straw and placed them in a dark corner of the garage.

Weeks later, when the first pale little shoots began to push through the straw, I took the pots out, gave them a little water and placed them on the covered back patio on the west side of the house. As the stalks shot up to about eight inches, I noticed that in seeking to follow the light, they would start to grow in that direction instead of straight up. This meant that each day I had to remember to rotate the pots a number of times so that the tulips would grow straight. I approached this duty seriously and with great caring, as it was a blessed respite from thinking of other things.

Later, when the tulips began to open, it was such a boost to my sagging spirits that I cried. Not only did I have unseasonably early tulips, but in contrast to the dreary, rainy days, their magnificent red color reminded me that the cycle of life – birth, death and change – continue to go on in a wonderful and ordered way and we can depend on it. The stalks were also ram-rod straight and strong. I spent many a healing hour with a steaming mug of tea in hand contemplating the sheer beauty and perfection of God in nature.

Several years later when I was taking a divorce recovery class, we were asked to write out our desires for our future life. Since one of my lifelong wishes was to have fresh floral bouquets all through my house, I wrote that I wanted a life filled with love, light and flowers.

Over time I did heal and find real love and lasting happiness. I believe it was divine synchronicity that my second husband also loved music, nature, gardening and flowers.

He is no longer here, but when I am seated in the patio swing sipping a cup of Earl Grey, I remember the love we shared for each other, music and nature. I sense his presence in the warm breeze that plays a melody on the wind chimes, in the flowers, and in the butterflies, hummingbirds, quail and rabbits that frequent the garden – all evidence of God’s love made visible.

Someone once said that to those who love, unrelenting time grants a thousand summers. I would humbly add, and a thousand flowers blooming in their hearts.
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Copyright © 2009 by Fern Stewart Welch

The author’s books: “You Can Live A Balanced Life In An Unbalanced World!” and “The Heart Knows the Way – How to Follow Your Heart to a Conscious Connection with the Divine Spirit Within” are available at Amazon.com and other online booksellers, as well as through major bookstores such as Barnes & Noble and Borders.