Sunflower seedlings were to
grow five feet tall
along the back of my garden.
Seeds planted indoors in early spring and
carefully transplanted when the ground warmed,
took root and
grew stronger and taller every day.
And then my dog died.
She, who was part terrier and
very good at patrolling the perimeter of our yard,
keeping at bay any animals who might think of
taking up residence or even stopping by for a visit.
She, who chased away every squirrel, cat, rabbit and bird.
She, who barked at the occasional opossum.
In the days after her death,
squirrels were the first to take tentative steps across the lawn.
They were soon joined by birds digging for worms, and
then a baby rabbit appeared.
Every morning, she peeked out from under the salvia,
nibbling on the dried grass attached to overturned clods of dirt.
And then, sitting on her haunches,
she nibbled the leaves of my young sunflowers.
How well she looks after herself,
finding what she needs to be nourished,
showing me the way.
Though sunflowers are beautiful to look at, they do provide nourishment for God’s creatures. You are feeding the hungry!
Thanks, Georgia. This bunny does invite me to be open-handed, to allow nature to be and to be open to nature’s lessons. I love having the space to look and ponder.
I loved reading this beautiful poem. You could learn from this young bunny!
I am trying to be open to her lessons, Karen.
Madeline…I am still waiting for your book! You are a very thoughtful writer! And a amazing person! Susan Leslie
Thanks Susan, I don’t think a book will come out until I retire.
I’m sorry for the loss of Detroit and the sunflowers but I see you found meaning in their demise…how beautiful!
I think the secret to happiness is contentment, and contentment means (to me) accepting what is and finding gratitude. Nature keeps teaching me to observe and celebrate what I see, grieve what I lose and then joy in what is.