I walk as quietly as I can past the silent tent. The only sound is the flip flop sound of my sandals kissing the soles of my feet. Whoever named them flip flops certainly could not have picked a better name.
I remember my first pair of the long coveted, flip flops. They were purchased at the Elmira sidewalk sale. One of the traditions and highlights of my childhood summers was to see all the vendors out on the sidewalk and if the sale was right, we just may end up with an exciting purchase. One advantage of a large family is the joy derived from sharing one anothers belongings. There is very few mine items. There is mostly ours.
But those flip flops were mine. Now I still buy a new pair every summer. Although I don't wear them as much anymore, they are still perfect for the beach or the garden.
Any how, I am on my way past the tent ,where my two youngest have been dreaming peacefully for the last hour.
They had set it up for a sleepover with a friend last evening, and now to maximize the experience they are once again tucked in for the night.
The moon is full tonight and it's ambiance is enough to lure me from the confines of brick and mortar to a mysterious, windowless existence.
Here darkness lightly cloaks the garden, and the row of yellow gladiola look like lanterns lit for a special occasion. I admire this even though it was disappointing to have all yellow.
After years of glads in varied colours, somehow they have all turned yellow.
The science behind this eludes me. I am left to conjure up a metaphor in my mind,
and enjoy yellow glads!
So here I am brandishing my knife at the sunflowers towering above me.
They have all grown from seeds that have come up voluntarily.Since most of the annuals I had planted in front of the house have died, there is a need for a pop of colour there.
I thought of this as I pulled into the driveway today after our swim at a neighbours pool.
I sense I have company out here in my twilight garden, and see Canyon our dog has wandered out with me,the strong and silent type.
Now the sunflowers are cut and although it was difficult to see what they really looked like by moonlight, I hold the sturdy stems hopefully and swish through the evening to place the sunflowers in my front porch bucket.
I try to be quiet but what is often the case in these scenarios, one thing leads to another as I move a chair and arrange my bouquet. " Mom?" says my son through the open window.
" Oh, yes it's just me." I reply. He may have gotten used to his Mom the night owl, but she isn't usually prowling around on the front porch.
Satisfied with my evening promenade, I turn to go inside.
I can't resist glancing back though, at the bouquet beaming brightly in the gathering night.
a little did you know?? sunflowers will droop if picked during daylight, they need to be picked either after dusk or at dawn.