Last week I picked off a selection of roses and orchids from the sanctuary’s flower display after service was over. The white roses were too pretty to be thrown away just like that. They had taken their time to grow and bloom for us. I arranged them in the vase I made and left them at the centre of my dining table.
I brought back some fresh orange roses today and was going to replace them in the vase when I noticed the new look they have taken on in the past week. Browned edges looking like nature’s work or a careless encounter with a cup of coffee. The petals still soft to the touch, delicate as ever, gently nudging me to linger for just another second to enjoy their aged beauty.
The white orchids still look as fresh as ever, sprightly and young to the touch.
The two flowers quietly age to a different rhythm; striding with a different purpose. Each having a unique form of beauty, from buds to wilting. And the cycle of life continues; just like it always has since the beginning of time.