What am I going to do when the season ends and my flowers begin to die?
How will I cope when I go outside in the morning and, instead of seeing a new darling has bloomed, I find the stalks becoming dry and crinkly—these gentle plants that brought butterflies and bees and joy to my days?
I have a grudge against death and its habit of taking things. I know it’s unreasonable and part of me believes death is not the end. But usually all I feel is fear that the end will come.
Now it’s a flower, later a loved one. Eventually, it will be all of us. Let’s hope we inspire people to plant new flowers in the years to come.
That is true, we should plant new ones. I take my plants in to the house at fall so then a lot of them survive some months extra, some even make it to the next summer 🙂