Praise for Petunias

Some of you may know that Mother's Day is hard for me since I pretty much flunked motherhood. But this year (see May 24 post for corroboration) the day was brightened considerably when a little girl presented me with a small pot of petunias during the after-church coffee hour. The petunias came with a note: "I love you, Grandma". (I still have the note). I planted the petunias of course. 

The amazing thing is that today, Nov. 3, those petunias are still flourishing. We've had frost. The dahlias and morning glories and tomatoes have died, slimed, and been buried in my giant plastic yard waste container.

But the petunias are still blooming. Like pansies, they don't seem to know when to quit.

They are islands of summer in the midst of frost-bitten (but beautiful) autumn. They are, somehow, inspiration.

So this simple little posting is a small celebration of everything that keeps on blooming in spite of all logic and common sense.  May we all go and do likewise.