Sunbeams Before the First Frost

On a yesterday decades ago I read a short story by Ray Bradbury "All Summer in One Day." It told the story of a girl, Margot, living on a planet where people had moved after nearly destroying planet earth. On this planet the sun only shined once every seven years, if they were lucky. 

"It had been raining for seven years; thousands upon thousands of days compounded and filled from one end to the other with rain, with the drum and gush of water, with the sweet crystal fall of showers and the concussion of storms so heavy they were tidal waves coming over the islands. A thousand forests had been crushed under the rain and grown up a thousand times to be crushed again. And this was the way life was forever on the planet Venus, and this was the schoolroom of the children of the rocket men and women who had come to a raining world to set up civilization and live out their lives."

"Margot stood apart from them, from these children who could never remember a time when there wasn't rain and rain and rain. They were all nine years old..." All Summer in One Day

That one short story has never left my soul. The blessing Bradbury gave me was to appreciate every day and every ray of sunshine I could absorb. Along with my love of the sun comes warmth, the cold hurts my bones.

The day before the frost, on this warm extended fall season in Oklahoma, I quietly sauntered, not a walking gait that I am accustomed to, around the neighborhood and found roses in bloom. Not just a rose but bushes as red as spring spreading across gardens prepared for winter's blast. 

The sunbeams pulled me along the sidewalks.  We go hand in hand, the sun and I. I hadn't planned to go far that day when my eyes fell on the yellow roses reaching out from under a tree limb to feel the sun on its petals. I knew how it felt, as the sun facing me warmed my bones. 

I smiled. Reaching downward I gently touched the soft petal, thanking it for this moment.  

Hiding in the corner of a home with an imposing driveway, my eyes were drawn to this Clematis in full climbing mode. The man who cares for his weedless perfectly lined and measured flowers was standing outside, like I, admiring the sun and bending backwards to stretch. I nodded and thanked him for always having flowers in bloom no matter the season and complimenting his Clematis. He beamed like a proud grandfather, "Isn't she gorgeous? I nearly killed her this spring when I cut her back nearly to ground level and now look at her. She's a true beauty queen." 

I asked to take a picture to share with others. He smiled and nodded yes, "I want to make sure my wife sees......" Just then his wife pulled in the driveway. As she stepped out of the car he hollered, "Honey, Honey, come over here, now please." She hesitated seeing me there and watching him pull out his cell phone and wave her over. 

"I want to take your picture beside the Clematis in bloom. She matches you favorite silk blouse." The wife smiled. I offered to take the picture of the two of them with their beauty queen, but he only focused on his lovely wife. I walked away as she walked towards her husband and his cell phone. Was her name Honey, or is it springtime for these love birds? I wondered. 

Impatiens

Another block over I spied a wall of Impatiens, hiding under the trees. By November they had filled in the entire space between trees and bushes. Did the people who live there ever see the beauty on that side of their house. I wanted to knock on their door and brag on their flowers....but I hesitated and moved on. 

I read through a winter as many Lisa See novels as I could. One of the quotes by Lady Tan in the novel Circle of Women has stayed with me:

     "Human life is like a sunbeam passing through a crack."

Shasta Daisies 

Even in a garden that didn't grow flowers, these daisies caught my attention like the sunbeams passing through a crack. I wonder if Lady Tan and her circle of women ever enjoyed a secret walk on a warm fall day before the first frost or were they held captive by their place in life never experiencing the beauty that springs out of season. 

For some of us it is easy to walk through life looking straight ahead, not glancing downward nor listening to the world flying by. I believe if we keep our eyes and ears open and pay attention to the fine details surrounding us, we can find inspiration, clear our minds of cobwebs and clutter, or find a hidden muse between the leaves. 

Butter Daises

Returning home my glorious freely seeded Butter Daises, that traveled from Hutchinson, Kansas to the clay soils of Oklahoma greeted me at our walkway. Thanks to the wind and the birds these tiny flowers grow wherever dropped. From early spring to the last very last day of fall these tiny yellow blossoms attract bees, birds, and people walking by. 

The last to shrivel and drop away are the Mexican Petunias that grow as tall as sunflowers in the meadow. From our kitchen table we enjoy their purple blooming essence from morning till night fall from June until the first frost. 

Some people prefer not to plant such an invasive flower, but others of us appreciate the gaps they fill with beauty. When they outgrow their boundaries I dig them up and find homes for them. They can handle extreme heat, high humidity, drought, and five inches of rainfall in one hour. Like me, they prefer full or partial sunlight. 

My mother would have loved this thought by St. Francis of Assisi--

 "A single sunbeam is enough to drive many shadows away."

and so is a flower in bloom....