The Meaning of Flowers

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In Japan the color white is the color of mourning.

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Or so I read. I've never been there. My dogs have Japanese names, though. 

"Black Dog" that's another reference to death...in a Nick Drake song.

Or so I read.

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All I know for sure is that my grandmother had a beautiful garden. It's May 6th, the 2nd anniversary of her passing.

The day before she died, it rained. Not a sad rainstorm where the clouds linger and remind you of tears and sadness, but the kind of shower that leaves the world in sparkling rainbows when the sun appears shortly afterwards. On days like that you can almost fathom the meaning of the world.
 

 I left my mother watching over her to take a break a walk through the garden and fields she loved. I took my black dog. These photos are from that day.

I have been busy starting up my new business and have been very neglectful of many other parts of my life, including this blog. But I could not neglect this anniversary.

 

I celebrate and mourn in images. Sometimes I think in images. It's only fitting.

 

We treasured our last Spring together. We walked out every day to see how the flowers were growing, as Spring crept in.

 

Later, as it became harder for her to walk out, I began to bring cut flowers in to her. Perhaps a poor substitution, but the smell brought a little of the outdoors in. 

The poet Czeslaw Milosz once wrote a poem and called it "Encounter".

O my love, where are they, where are they going
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.

These days I ask out of wonder and sorrow.

 

These days, when I see a flower, I remember my grandmother. Especially lilacs...she liked their fragrance.

 

 

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Kathleen McIntosh

10-17-1934 
5-6-2013

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Thank you for reading. Click on any image to see it larger.