On my list of 47 things to do before I die I wrote 'work in a florists shop'. Today I was wandering through Fort Langley and I was reminded of that. There is something about flowers that is so wonderful. The scent, the colour; it is as if against a backdrop of a suffering world and the gray monotony of a city in winter, someone forgot to tell flowers to be unhappy, and there they are! Unashamedly beautiful, delicate and vulnerable, transitory, yet possessing all the glory of the universe.
I think to be surrounded by flowers all day would be the most lovely vocation in the world. They bring rest to the soul and peace to the mind. Who can be angry while looking at the intricate leaf of a maidenhair fern, or the unfolding petals of a white rose, or the sunny exuberance of a bouquet of daisies?
Flowers say with their beauty, 'It's okay. Just let it go, drink in the beauty. Rest awhile, wait awhile, take a few extra moments to inhale the perfume and bask in the colour before moving on with the busyness of life'....
Each one is different, they are like fingerprints that can't be repeated and they are here today, gone tomorrow.
I stopped by IGA on my way home and discovered to my delight that their flowers were on sale. now there are yellow tulips above my sink, red ones drooping majestically out of cracked glass on my coffee table, clusters of orange roses above my bed with their heady scent filing the air.
Oh, glorious!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
The life of a florist
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3 comments:
I hate to be the bearer of bad news... (okay, so you might not believe that, but it's true)
But when one is "forced" to work in an environment like that, one tends to lose a sense and appreciation for the beauty that surrounds...
/sigh
It just becomes product and you have to force yourself to take the time to smell the roses...
don't listen to them heath, it would be a blast.
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