I learned that many people think of Sunday as the beginning of the week, and many calendars are set up that way. I think of it as the end, the day to rest and regroup for the week to come.
I learned that grass in Alabama dies if it gets in severe drought. I was used to grass in Oklahoma, tough bermuda grass that may go dormant, even for months of a hot year, but when it got rain, it would come right back. Not so this grass we have in our Alabama yard. We did not water our lawn, and now enormous sections that was out in open sun, is now plain dead and shows no signs of resurrection.
I learned that I still adore the circus, maybe even more so now, because I’ve lived long enough to understand what the lion tamer, the trapeze artist, the balancing acts have to go through to provide wonderful entertainment for us, and fulfillment for themselves. They have to practice, no matter how they feel, they have to do their work again and again, and again and again. And risk every time. It’s what they do.
I learned that nanas are the healer of all wounds, and when a just-bought light saber suddenly dies, and even when there are two grown men– a father and grandfather– it is Nana who takes the boy by the hand to track down the circus barker around the ring and make the exchange for a new one that works. You think that barker is going to argue with a nana?
I learned– was reminded, actually–that experts are not always totally correct. I read that most bearded iris, no matter the color, will turn white in this area of Alabama. Well, I planted this iris two springs ago, and it remains a purple tinge, just as it began. It seems to love the spot where I put it, although it does bloom at the oddest times. It is a plant being itself, defying odds, and experts. I’ll let you know if it eventually turns white.