Surprised April air shivered in Wednesday’s snowfall. There was only a skiff, but it ghosted the greening lawn and emerging plants. By mid-morning Thursday the sun reclaimed the sky and its warmth overpowered the snow.
I ventured out with camera in hand and found magenta and mauve-veined blossoms of Lenten Rose Helleborus weighted into submission but still gamely nodding. They’re usually hardy in zone six, but here they don’t perish despite Mother Nature’s zone four and five chilly whim. I’m not sure why.
Only in mild winters are their glossy green leaves meant to be evergreen, and yet our plants have remained evergreen every year whether the temperature dips to minus 20 degrees C. or remains above freezing. They prefer “an open or partially shaded locale”; here they are in deep shade against the house’s northeast foundation. Care instructions say they require “a nutritious soil that has decent drainage but is not overly dry”; here their roots reside in dry clay.
Still, they endure… much like the aspiring novelist who doesn’t follow all the rules or meet all the requirements, who gets battered by winds of change, and succeeds despite the odds.
Sometimes there is no explanation for success except that we have persisted. A small magnet on my refrigerator says, “Bloom where you are planted.” We bloom, and hope that someone cares enough to see and appreciate.
Do you sometimes feel you’re barely surviving in your writing efforts? What does it take to keep you rooted and blooming?
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”
[Ecclesiastes 3:1 – KJV]
* * Don’t forget to read and comment on yesterday’s post to be eligible for Sunday’s book draw. * *