Huge, dense petaled red roses rise out of clear glass vase, opening more and more with each passing day, giving up the secrets of their unfolding depths. Such miracles are flowers. A Valentine's gift from my husband.
Central Arizona is so beautiful; yet I just spent some moments surfing the web for beautiful gardens where green is the predominate color and not beige, feeling the humid air, the rich smell of dark earth, the buzz of insects, all in my imagination of course. How tiring rain can become when it becomes that unwelcome visitor who keeps popping by unannounced. Yet here in the Central Highlands of Arizona, we are more apt to run out and glory in the occasional shower. That was true in the United Arab Emirates as well, indeed even more so. I don't want to live in a humid climate, but sometimes I long for an hour or so where the earth is so fecund that you can almost hear the plants growing, see them pushing up and out. I know the sweat would trickle down my back, break out on my forehead, run in rivulets between my breasts, but just for a bit to know that wet world again where the scents of rain and dark soil and flowers wrap themselves around you like creeping tendrils of ivy until you know, really know, you are not apart from but part of all of this.
Just following my meandering thoughts, but time to move from contemplation to a bit of action...but only a bit. R & R time for me...
