#20 Rituals of Hope

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In the beginning, it was incomprehensible to me to use what little window-sill-real-estate I had on orchids, especially those without flowers.  Not known for their foliage, the naked plants look like floppy green tongues.  Now I covet every shape and size, like an ever-changing puzzle, and spend a few minutes each morning rotating pots to insure symmetry, charting the growth of a new leaf, and inspecting crevices for a new bloom stalk.  Even a dreadful day of personal or global despair can be salvaged by these simple rituals of hope.

 

 

 

3 thoughts on “#20 Rituals of Hope

  1. Here in the Sonoran Desert we save every orchid plant that my beloved husband buys me in bloom. We seldom have the joy of a rebloom but we love the plants and the sweet memories. On a rare occasion one delights us and blooms again. I adore the hope and cherish the memory.

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