POTTED THOUGHTS

She loved spending time in the garden. All those seeds the size of dust had potential to sprout into grand beauties. Flecks of hope and potential, she mused. Her finger gently brushed a spot of the earth, creating a minuscule crater. She held the tiny dots in her palm and carefully dropped them in. A quick covering over, in case the wind had other ideas and her dreams were embedded. There was real scope to root. Purple blazing stars sparked into life. Watery ink seeped through the paper-like pansies and an ochre dot painted the centre. 

Petite petals looked like little paper hearts affixed with a pin. She could hold one stem in her hand, blow and watch it twirl in a pinwheel motion. Hydrangeas looked glorious in all shades, from soft pinks to rich blues. The pansies made another appearance in vibrant yellows and purples. These alluring colours continued to draw her in. Beautiful orange ruffles gathered as though they were shaved from the orange sun itself. She found herself becoming fascinated by the variety of different marigolds there were in the world. 

She walked round and felt as though someone had left her a large gift box. She knelt down to appreciate the goodies within. Her eyes widened as she spotted those familiar callas, swirling away. Edges blended from a milky cream to a rich purple. That paintbrush had made its way around again and was dipped in white paint this time. Some carefree splattering had taken place, as the leaves were left with a terrazzo feel. Crinkly gladioli blooms sat stacked above one another, appreciating the refreshment of light rain. 

She entered the fragrant corner, where stalks sat with tight French knots within the lavender tapestry. Her glance was captured by an abundance of wispy tendrils, which spun around the other lengths. Miniature sweet pea purses were filled with a captivating scent. They gladly opened their silk petals to share. She reached out to run her finger over the wavy edges, which responded by dancing around her touch. She imagined the stems continuing to grasp and grow, until the length of the wall was covered in a plethora of delicate buds.

Ixia flowers emerged alike white clams sprayed with a magenta core. The colour extended to a beam on the external petals too. There was a mesmerizing quality to them. Strawberry & cream-swirled dahlias looked too tempting not to try. She picked off a petal and relished in the sweetness of the flavours. A cluster of geranium petals burst into an expanse of coral forms. Gentle veining echoed in a deeper shade, like tributaries coursing through a sandy pink beach. She could sit and admire the richness of the hue for a while. So she did. 

The foxgloves glowed in the evening sun. The circular patterning in their bells reminded her of paint she poured in layers. A network with tiny cells would magically occur as the liquid dispersed throughout the surface. She'd spent the day admiring the little details and soon registered the sun had set. Her focus shifted to white stars, ready to pierce the dusky evening. Shapes carved from mother of pearl sheets; just in time to dance with the moon. These moments in bloom made her feel simultaneously sedate and awoken.