It’s only been overcast for one day, but I already miss the cool, sunny days that we’ve been enjoying.
Fortunately, just outside our back door, we have a planter filled with marigolds. Stephen planted them in the spring with some basil.
The marigolds stopped blooming during the heat waves of July and August, but when when it cooled down again, it was like they were reborn. And this time around, they were more wild, stretching and cascading over the edge. They are living in the moment.
Some years, we buy chrysanthemums at Home Depot and while I enjoy the color of these plants, I always feel a bit guilty supporting the disposable-plant industrial complex.
It’s not like the marigolds are going to last, either, but it somehow feels better having them for the whole season.
With a little bit of time, they have become truer versions of themselves.
Now when I step out the front door, I imagine what my block would look like if the city removed a row of private car storage and replaced it with a long strip of marigolds.
