Surprises

Surprises

      Surprises engage our memory and attention as routines can not. They almost seem to alternate between good and bad. For example:

Turning around mindlessly and suddenly facing a mass of color from an azalea swarm.

A long drought where you suddenly realize that the whole garden needs watering. NOW!

A late snow on newly opened flowers; an attractive juxtaposition, photo-worthy for remembering years later.

A deep, heavy snow that breaks tree limbs and the branches of bushes, leaving visible scars years later.

Azaleas with flowers in November or December, when those plants were expected to go to sleep.

Tripping while jogging or slipped while gardening.

Photographing a giant, colorful garden spider with a dew-covered web in the first rays of the sun.

Discovering last night's deer damage.

What's that weird thing? Surprise! It's a Luna Moth hanging upside down under a rose bush leaf!

A large dragonfly warming up in the morning chill, resting on a favorite plant.

A squirrel running up my pant leg while avoiding the charge of another, sharp claws digging in, unaware I'm not a tree until I bend over and scream at it.

Finding a garter snake, harmlessly wrapped around the roots of a small azalea being transplanted, both ready to share their sleep through the winter.

Planting some Japanese Maple seeds and, two years later, still waiting for them to emerge. A slow motion disappointment.

Receiving a free plant in the fall called 'Boring Pink' and discovering the next spring that its flowers are bright white with red flecking exploding all over. Like being asked to move from coach into First Class to “balance the plane”.

      Photographs delude us, pretending we well remember people and places from our past. Surprises create true memories, recreated in detail. For a moment, we are in the experience: cold wind, warm sun and all.