Sunday Post: Flower Power

Flower Power came onto the scene back in the late 1960’s and 70’s out in Berkley, California. It was a symbol of non-violence and passive resistance. Hippies embraced the idea and started colorful clothing with embroidered flowers and colors. Wearing flowers in their hair and handing out flowers, they became known as “flower children.”

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Being a child of 1965, I (Sincerely, Emily) was old enough to remember some “Flower Power!” Right this moment, for me, Flower Power brings to mind pollination. (It also has me singing songs from the soundtrack from Forrest Gump) “To everything, turn… turn… turn. There is a season, turn… turn… turn” or “R E S P E C T. Find out what it means to me. R E S P E C T. Take care. TCB”  (TCB = Taking care of business)

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Funny you should mention that Emily…only the other day I (Fran) reacquainted myself with “Flower Power” in the form of a fibreglass cow wearing gumboots! 😉

“YEAH Baby!” 😉

As Serendipity Farm is suffering the last throes of winter I had to hunt high and low for some flower material. These might be pretty to some folks but Forget-me-nots certainly live up to their name on Serendipity Farm…”WEEDS”! Just flowers in the wrong place 😉

This is a “Where’s Wally” flower

Who needs flowers when you have leaves like this?

I managed to take a few more flower images but I am saving them for Monday’s post…sorry guys, you will just have to take the bait and come see on Monday just what narf7 managed to find under all of the mud, flooded soil and windswept debris. Until then, I am officially envious beyond belief of all of you Northern Hemisphere full flowering summer folks…

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Flower Power Central! Can you spot me (Alexandra) at the Independent Garden Center show in Chicago last week? (Thank you LaManda Joy for taking the photo!)

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What does “Flower Power” mean to you?

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A Family

Seng is an ocean
Deep and shallow still and moving
Inevitable
With shores that stretch beyond sight
And fingers that reach up the strand
And retreat
Back to deep
To the hidden large and constant universe

Nga is a sea of tall grass
With roots tangled anchored
To the ground
And stems that stretch for the golden sun
And wave and reach for
air
They hide the small and private things of the earth
with sound and movement and mystery

Wei is the night sky
Far and sparkling faint lights reaching down
Bright as pain at the source
Soft as mystery to the eye
There is no end
There is no start
Deep beyond imagining and twinkling patterns
Moving across life

Xan is the deep black soil
Holding roots water living things
Nurturer and shroud
Feeding crumbling and flowing
Waiting
Wrapped around rocks, grass’s anchor
Ocean’s edge
As far from the night sky as dreams

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A million to one

It’s a trope– the million to one chance. We use it to describe unlikely scenarios, that probably are 100 to 1, or 1000 to 1 possibilities. I’m sure there are statisticians whose teeth are set on edge by these phrases, especially the more exaggerated of them.

A million to one.

Last week I lost a new earring while walking to the local movie theater. It’s a 2 mile walk, so I didn’t even think about trying to recover it. I had no idea where along the walk I lost it, or even if I’d been wearing it when I left the house. In fact, earlier in the day I’d been downtown (that’s downtown Chicago), and wasn’t entirely sure I’d been wearing it when I got back in the car.

After we got home I realized it was gone, and went to bed in a teary snit. The next morning I found out my darling husband had retraced the entire 4 mile round trip at midnight, with a flashlight, trying to find it.

And still I thought–not even going to try, it’s completely ridiculous.

But the next day I thought about that darling man, walking through the not-all-that-safe neighborhood in the middle of the night, looking for my earring. So I retraced the route.

Million to one.

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