I have had a life-long love of flowers. They pull me to them as surely as if I were a bee seeking nectar. They feed my spirit.

As a child, I wandered outdoors on my own seeking nature’s secrets. I picked wild flower bouquets and brought them home to my mother. I adorned myself with garlands made by threading clover flower heads through slots carefully pierced with my fingernails in the stems.

I was a fairy princess and nature was my realm. The fairy prince sought me because I was beautiful and good.

In those dreamy days, time moved slowly. I could sit happily in a tree for hours hidden from the world and secure in an imaginary world. This world was full of magic, contentment, and certainty. The inhabitants were kind; they never argued or spoke cruel words. No one cried or left.

Flowers arrived when the time was right, following nature’s rhythms. The buds opened, and the flowers shared their beauty and fragrance with me. As petals from one species withered and dropped, another bloomed in seamless progression.

As I grew, my studies led me to a scientific understanding of plants and nature. Theories, analysis, and research satisfied my analytical mind.

I came to know flowers as perfectly fashioned reproductive structures whose form followed function. They are part of a living organism, and not a culmination of its life.

Still, within the scientist, remains the child who wandered freely, enjoying nature’s wonder without conscious thought. After fairy princes and princesses faded when faced with reality, flowers still speak to me about ephemeral beauty, unabashed sensuality, and yielding to nature’s plan.

Happy Vernal Equinox, Lyn

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