What in your life is calling you, When all the noise is silenced, The meetings adjourned… The lists laid aside, And the Wild Iris blooms By itself in the dark forest… What still pulls on your soul? -Rumi
Well. Then we had the irises, rising beautiful and cool on their tall stalks, like blown glass, like pastel water momentarily frozen in a splash, light blue, light mauve, and the darker ones, velvet and purple, black cat’s ears in the sun, indigo shadow, and the bleeding hearts, so female in shape it was a surprise they’d not long since been rooted out. There is something subversive about this garden of Serena’s, a sense of buried things bursting upwards, wordlessly, into the light, as if to point, to say: Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently. -Margaret Atwood
It doesn’t have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few small stones; just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don’t try to make them elaborate, this isn’t a contest but the doorway into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak. -Mary Oliver
What do I see through the camera lens?
Oh…it is you!
You must have a very large family!
I have met many of your relatives in the garden!
*Clicking on a photo will give you a closer look!