We planted sunflowers again this summer.
I harvested the seeds from last year’s splendor.
Last summer, you will probably recall a few or 25 pictures of sunflowers
in their various stages of growth and loveliness plastered all over this blog.
The sunny patch lines the divide of our neighbors fence.
I always wonder if they are surprised when that first sunflower shoots
past the top of the fence and takes residence “in” both yards.
However, something has been different this year.
The soil was prepared and the seeds scattered.
Weeks of carefully watering ensued and the first seedlings emerged.
The painful process of thinning the growth arrived.
Pale green stems grew tall and leaves expanded in width.
After finding bite marks on many of the leaves we searched for the bug causing
One morning I looked out a window in our nook to find our dog
Hazel’s face submerged in leaves and having a little snack.
Another morning I found an empty stalk which no longer bore the first huge flower head.
A few days later I scolded a squirrel who tried to bat a
sunflower head with its paw, looking for an early dinner I supposed.
A second culprit foiled at least for that moment.
Now the sunflowers are decidedly in bloom.
They have survived wind, rain and four-legged creatures but for some reason
they do not look the same as last summer.
I am not sure if it because last year was the first time in a very long since I had grown sunflowers.
Perhaps the excitement that every seed wouldn’t be devoured by bird or squirrel
before even the opportunity for roots to take place
added to the joy of success.
There still is the feeling of wonder like when Carl remarked at how one little seed produces
a huge plant with flowers denoting sunshine.
To my eyes, the stalks look spindly and the flowers seem to last momentarily before
petals either drop or shrivel.
It is not the same patch as last year.
This row of flower soldiers has revealed to me anew that you can’t expect the same
results in a different season.
The soil or location may be the same.
The seed originating from the same source.
This season is new and will bring with it, its own results and trials.
A different season may yield different results.
I wonder if the flowers are the same but I am different.
I see them with different eyes.
They are not the eyes of delight which spied them a summer ago.
I may have lost a bit of wonder.
I wonder if there are aspects of my life I am trying to fit into
a new season which do not belong.
Do I repeat the same actions, think the same thoughts and expect
the result to be exactly like it was a year ago…a decade ago?
Summer school lesson #2:
- Don’t be fooled by a season which looks familiar yet yields different results.
- Don’t fall in love with a previous season to the extent you lose the wonder of what God desires to grows in your current season.