FISTS FULL OF FLOWERS
"Wait is the Whisper. Let patience have her perfect work."
I walked through the growing prairie yesterday during the golden hour. My goodness. It's beautiful. So many colors peeking through, proving that the perennial wildflowers and native grasses we seeded will become established flora for fauna in the years to come.
I've received fists full of
flowers from the kids (and Farmer Jones), but haven't gone out yet for myself. From a distance, it all just looks green and brushy, but yesterday during my walk, I stood knee-high and surrounded by poppies, prairie coneflowers, wild rye, coreopsis, cosmos, blue flax, black-eyed susan, yarrow, clover, aster, blanket flower and so much more.
I breathed in and enjoyed the sight: Fruition. What a reward. There were many times this season, particularly during the drought in spring that I thought the prairie would fail. We were tempted to interplant a temporal green solution so the view looked nice for our guests. Wait was the Whisper. It won't be dry forever. The right conditions will come and bless that field and the seeds will take root and life will fill the empty spaces.
So many of our dreams go through a drought. They will appear dead and unlikely to sprout and there's little in our culture to encourage patience. Daily we exercise the convenience of 'now' and it corrupts our character of endurance. In this age, we have tremendous resources at our finger-tips and we can
easily make a way on our own, filling space with the temporal so all appears good and well. Don't do it. Wait is the Whisper. Let patience have her perfect work. Continue forward in your vision as it all catches up to your step.
My hope for those of you who feel weary and perhaps alone in the
pursuit of that precious dream placed in your heart, is that you are encouraged to be still and wait. Maybe for some of you, the wildflowers are showing up. Though they are delicate and tiny, you see life. Like me, it's time to walk out and enjoy the blooms that are present and be content in knowing it's all coming together.
Until next time,
Mrs. Farmer Jones, Locavore Farms
