Sunday, November 11, 2007


There is this gratitude we have for those flowering plants which bloom late, just as fall gives up all her fiery leaves for mulch and the sun kisses the sky a sleepy goodnight or good-day. It's hard to distinguish between dawn and dusk and the sometimes even the middle of the day deceives. And in my garden, a late blooming Black-eyed Susan or a cousin to her, unbelievably winks at me while the garden has already began the dirge, that Requiem in a minor key, which will sound for months for the dead and the dying. It is the Late Bloomer: the forgotten, the dismissed, the outcast, whose time has come to shine. What hope that nature advances to expectant hearts: for SARAH, a child in her old age!

I came accross information that Morgan Freeman acted in his first recognizable movie part after age 50 and yet at 70 years he has risen to become one of the best known actors, black or white, while those early birds may have long since thrown in the towel. He is known for acting authority parts whether he is a jail-bird, or a chauffeur, full of advice and wisdom and those extra smarts that catches the felon. He's even acted God in Bruce Almighty!

Cheers to those who are still waiting to bloom, the season is changing!

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