Hidden miracles
We can never know, when we embark on an adventure or a morning, where it will take us.
As Paulo Coelho says in Warrior of the Light: A Manual (HarperCollins, 2002), βThe only trap I must beware not to fall into is to think that each day is the same as the next. In fact, each morning brings with it a hidden miracle, and we must pay attention to this miracle.β

Wind-thrown seed of a winterkilled lupine found a foothold in an empty planter box left out over winter and is struggling to carry on life despite the odds.

Tiny white blossoms are native heuchera. Red ones are a weed: sheep sorrel. Beautiful together, unplanned.
12 Responses to “Hidden miracles”
Beautiful renegades. How lucky you are to see them.
I’m hoping for a status report on the lupine… (:
You will get it! I’m going to plant that baby into the garden and nurture it. I think I’ll name it Carin! π If it’s from the mother plant I think it’s from, the blooms will be cherry red.
I’m honoured! Lupins have been a favourite ever since reading Miss Rumphius. (: Used to have a whole bed of them until other things began crowding them out. Someone once told me they like to grow where *they* choose, so you’re brave to transplant it… but surely it will feel your lupin love. Sending happy-roots-in-new-soil vibe.
Thanks for the heads up. Instead of digging it out, I’ll try turning the box over so “Carin” stays in the soil she’s already in. Maybe I can trick her into thinking she hasn’t been moved.
I love that: “green upon green upon green” and so on….
It’s funny – when I edit I almost always want to change upon to on, but here upon seemed right. π
You westerners of the Skeena Valley! We are finally green here in Driftwood Canyon, the prairie crocus just opening now, the columbines budding up (do you know why they’re called columbines? It’s the French word for dove and if you look closely, you’ll see five of them sitting in a circle – if you bite off their tiny heads you’ll get a pleasant jolt of sweetness). Lovely photos, Leslie. Thanks.
It’s been such a strange spring. I spent lots of time in the garden in February. The ground was frozen, but there was no snow on it and the days were sunny. Then it got cold again and stayed cold forever. The frost finally came out of the ground so late. I lost lots of perennials and bulbs over the winter. And now, after a slow start, everything is suddenly taking off. Bumper year for rhubarb and asparagus, and all the berry bushes are loaded so there should be lots of berries this summer. Thanks for the columbine lore, Sheila. I’ll have to try chomping on one!
Lovely. It always seems redundant to plant things when we can find such elegant arrangements out in the world. A tangle of wild honeysuckle in a native willow. Those beautiful columbines –we have them down here too. And in southern Alberta and B.C. last week, huge swathes of arrowleaf balsamroot on grassy slopes…
What’s thrilling me on my daily walk right now is prickly rose blooming in tandem with red osier dogwoods. Just gorgeous.
Great pics. But is this blog dead?
Not dead. Just dormant for a while, but slowly waking. Thanks for your interest. π