May 15, 2010

A morning in the garden ~ The Name is Mom

I found myself in Mary's garden this morning for coffee. My friend, Mary is gifted with eyes to see things that aren't there - yet. So, a few weeks ago, I noticed the addition of an avocado-flesh colored market umbrella in the front yard of her house. In the days that followed, black winged rattan chairs, a square table and Sister Theresa hydrangeas came into place. Now mind you, this isn't the front yard. This is the garden space under the front window in front of the iceberg roses and behind the boxwoods. We become the flowers in this garden. My Dear and I have spent time over summer drinks, eating Swedish Meatballs and potatoes and chatting in this space with these dear, dear friends.
This morning, I went over in PJs with my coffee cup to savor the morning, the paper, the catching up and the over-cast to sunny morning. Mary's boys are old. High school and college old. She's experiencing that stage. Only one appeared. A while into our languorous and chatty, morning state, Marjorie joined. (With her orchid oolong tea and the amazing mesh infuser.)
And then, the onslaught, Bob the most elegant neighbor alive, in his pressed jeans and cane ready for his hike, Liz, on her way to doing Ann's garden, Marjorie's cat-like and beautiful eldest girl, who is younger than my youngest, and her baby who is decidedly six. Touching base, enjoying our enjoyment and liking the idea of a day beginning with time for sitting in the garden.
We didn't really talk about much Mom stuff. Mary's on a brilliant design project for friends with a rental to be dressed in Laguna. Marjorie, who's working on a Master's in design herself, is looking forward to an elegant evening tonight at a benefit and is acting as a tour docent tomorrow. I'm thinking about plantings, sprucing and reading. Our kiddos are in a musical the next two nights.

The morning reminded me of this: the other mothers, those how have been and are still going along, my path are the one's who breathe the sweetest fragrance into my days. An hour in their presence can be like a day.
Who are the other Mothers, the gals you connect to and what do they bring?

No comments:


Related Posts with Thumbnails

Follow by Email

Blog Archive


Original text and images sole property of BirdandSeashells. If you wish to use something, please ask or quote me.