A Moving Sale

A couple months ago, Sister and I stopped at a moving sale and peeked through the belongings of an elderly man who was moving from his long-owned house. There’s something melancholy about seeing a collection of Christmas decorations that took about fifty years to accumulate and now they are up for $10 each.

Something melancholy about seeing a collection of well-used garden tools that the owner can’t use anymore, leaning against the side of the garage, waiting for someone younger to make an offer.

Something melancholy about the vibrant rhododendron, obviously cultivated and loved for many, many years, and he can’t take that with him when he goes. He leaves behind that piece of himself.

But there’s also something so nice about running into someone who knew your grandmother. In all the moving I’ve done and all the places I’ve lived, there is only one place where that is possible and it is so good for my heart to have those moments where I am reminded of my roots, of where I came from. I don’t know what the future will bring or where I’ll end up, but I am happiest here right now, surrounded by my people and my places and knowing that generations came before me and that gives me a sense of belonging I haven’t experienced anywhere else.

And that’s enough of being sappy…I will also say we picked up two nice vases for $2.

 

Advertisement

Backyard Ballad: Peonies and Phlox Edition

As you may have gathered, flowers are my weakness. I love them. I love the way they look, I love the way they seem so fragile but are actually so strong, I love the patterns, the scents, the colors.

One thing I keep coming back to is how fleeting they are.

When we arrived at the end of May the lilac bushes and trees were BURSTING, and if you drove with the windows down you could smell lilacs all over the country. Then they were gone, and the rhododendrons erupted and there were huge bushes of purple and pink and orange flowers in front of houses up and down every side street.

These rhododendron pictures are from a house up the street. There’s an old man who lives there and he used to know my Nana since he lived next door. We talked about her briefly and I took pictures of his flowers and, since he was having his weekly moving sale (yes, really, he’s had it every week), I bought two vases for $1 each.

Then they were gone and wild phlox appeared, lining the roads, hiding in groves, bordering meadows and fields.

The phlox was everywhere, purple upon purple upon purple. Then the roadsides were mowed and the deer got hooked on the Phlox Phad and ate them all up.

Then there were peonies, and they are almost gone. They super-inflated and then exploded and the peony heads are lying all over people’s lawns, looking exhausted and like someone let all the air out of their tires.

This last picture is one I took a few days ago. I bought myself a peony bush and it’s my favorite thing. I planted it by the front porch and two weeks later there were two giant pink flowers bobbing around and now the petals are decaying on the ground, but look at this photo, isn’t it gorgeous?