(Finish that tune…)

When the new flower is the best, the birds are still chirping in declaration of their morning fare. The sun is still hiding behind the eastern horizon. The trees are still driping with dew. And the day has only just begun.

Actually, I went out after the clouds were burned off by the sun. The breeze was tickling the windchimes. And the dry pavement was steaming up the air. the coral canna flower had lost it’s beauty. The soft petals had folded up. The wind damaged blossom looked wilted and about to fall to the rocks below.

Why is this flower my favorite this year? Or is it just because it is a new thing and the others are predictable.

Because when it greets me in the morning, it is at its best. In the corners or the two boxes they were planted with hope. I had no idea if they would survive the heat on the south side of the house. But there in the corner, they have spread out to cover the whole one foot end of the box. Impressive I tell myself as I pull out another dead growth that I had spend money on. Errgh! I growl at my pocket book.

Impatience.

Okay, I know. I spelled it wrong. But these lovely blooms are the winners for box garden flower beds. If I can just remember that next year. Impatiens are so full of variety and color. From there purple star formations to just prolific white blooms, hundreds of cities use them in their hanging planters downtown. I love how they just multiply with little to no care.

Growing flowers seems to be more rewarding this year than garden vegetables this year. The outside garden sits empty for the first time since we moved here. My wanna for gardening has taken a deep sea dive as I try to keep breathing with minimal medicines. When the asthma kicks in so readily at allergy induced activities outside, it gets easier just to not do.

The last few weeks have kept me preoccupied with a mini- family reunion and a trip to the zoo with my brother’s family. And then last week my internet was down for a day just before the bill came to say they raised their rates. That makes me growl in irritation also.l

Oh, well. It is much faster.

The one thing that made me really laugh about the zoo visit was the monarch migration. We say more butterflies on the honeysuckle bushes on the way in to the zoo than we did in their little butterfly habitat inside the zoo gates. Then, the day after the buttergly migration came north to our property. The rabble of flying critters on our clover patch driveway is amazing. They flutter in front of me as I walk through the blossoms. At least the bees have left for a time.

While on our short weekend road trip we stopped off in the Badlands of South Dakota to enjoy the sweet clover in bloom. It was amazing to see the lush undergrowth at the base of all the rocks. The plateaus looked almost lime green from a distance. The smell still conjures up an emotion in me that is indescribable. Was it happiness, contentment, or awe? I don’t think I have found the right words yet. But when I close my eyes at look at the distant jagged rocks and take a big whiff of air… Amazing.

“In my own little corner, in my own little world. I can be whatever I want to be. “. My husband always says that I am his princess and the pea, becuase of my sensitivity to crooked sheets or a wrinkle in the pillowcase. So today when I discovered his “surprise” for me in my corner mending chair, I wondered how many times I have messed with his corner of the world.

I have this love affair with the snickers candy bar. He use to bring me a bag of the little fun size bars to help me with my cleaning chores. After each room, I would sneak a snack and a drink of water to keep me energized through the tasks. Cleaning chores are not my favorite thing and the snickers is a pretty good “carrot” to keep this little pony pulling the cart. But how did I feel about being told to clean instead of sit?

Is that what he really meant?

There are so many different motivating options in the world. In my corner, it’s a snickers fun size snack. Outside it is the blossoms that greet me as I take my morning chore path.

But my chair?

That’s also my prayer corner. Not far from my hand it a little jar, a little note pad, and a pen. Every day when prayer requests burden me and I find myself overwhelmed with some world outside of my own sphere of influence, the request is written down and put into the jar. My prayer / crochet time is not complete until those requests are lifted up to the one who has more influence than me.

From flowers, to butterflies, to the broken hearts of those in need of prayer, from my own little corner only God can smell the spiritual aroma of prayers rising heavenward. I hope it smells like the meadows of sweet clover. And I hope our praise looks like the butterflies scattering before His feet as He moves and acts on our behalf.

Psalm 141:2.a “Let my prayer be counted a sweet fragrance before You.”