and then the marsh came to life

Our neighbor, the marsh, suddenly popped full of orange lilies this weekend. Hundreds of gorgeous, tall, strong flowers bursting forth, praising the heavens. We enjoyed sitting on the deck, taking in the scene and the scents, rightfully taking part in the praising too.

And that's my goal for today- praise a little more, give thanks a little more, take for granted a little less. Happy Tuesday.

symbolism, much?

Jake gave me an orchid over a year ago. It had little buds that soon bloomed. It loved my little studio apartment and I made sure Layla- the cat- wouldn't die if she ate it. [She won't. Orchids aren't poisonous to cats, so says my google research.] Then, the orchid stayed. Even past the blooms. Since then it's been a long, lull of green stalk and us wondering if the plant was even alive. 

A week ago Jake noticed new life. Out of nowhere this little, silver-potted plant created new buds. Through a move, a marriage, and long stretches of no water (we're not perfect at plant parenting) it was thriving. Preparing. Growing itself to this place of declaration. 

It looks so different with a flower. 

I'm not sure what this is symbolic of. I'm not pregnant. Nothing out-of-the-ordinary has happened. Auditions for new shows last week and the start of a new semester this week are beginnings, but they're rather run of the mill.  Still, I feel something. That little orchid is trying to tell me something.

Or maybe I've just eaten too many Jelly Belly beans.