I wondered if Alice was concerned about some special plants that she treasured most. Her answer surprised me. “No” she said “I will miss them all being together.”

This is why her garden glows. She sees the plants as part of a mosaic. Alice designs a living,  green community. She makes tapestries of flowers and leaves.

I have to admit I have never thought this way. I garden one plant at a time. I guess that’s the biologist in me. This thought is so new! I am glad I am not on the river right now. I would be tempted to hobble out with a shovel to rearrange my colors and textures and heights.

I did finally get Alice to name several plants that she was happy to see come up after the flood. A Lenten Rose from her mom survived. It is small with crumpled leaves, but is putting out new leaves. She was also glad to see the white Clematis that she rescued from a construction site. This photo is my favorite from all the ones I took. It looks like a shining star.

A redbud and dogwood came through unaffected. An azalea survived but looks sick.

Two pink Star Gazer lilies came up in pink profusion.

Looking at Alice’s garden gives no hint of the past disaster. She said she bought bags of wildflower seeds and threw them everywhere. Alice healed her garden, and maybe herself, with bulbs and seeds. I would need that, too. I have said many times “My hope is green!”

I bet Alice and Palmer would say that, too. I know ‘My Friend the Fairy’, Madge would second that. She gave me the Cereus. All this is probably her doing.

Talking with Alice and Opal has filled my head with stories that came back to me as I marveled at the many changes that they have navigated through. I thought of changes in my own life that I neither caused nor expected. We all have our own hurricanes and floods. We all must survive hardships that show up uninvited. I guess that’s why Alice’s garden and Opal’s lamp meant so much to me.

I get it. This rising up after a storm. Do you?

FLOW