These columbine blooms recall this post from earlier in the spring, a time that feels so close and already so far. A fancier and more petalicious white version of Columbine may be found here – proof that there’s a blog post for everything. When I think on that, it feels exhausting. We all live so many lives, mostly without even realizing it. One life is never just one life.
How strange that such a pretty flower elicits such difficult thoughts. Try getting your head around something like the multiverse. Younger people do it with ease, but they’re afraid of other things. Older people can make sene of it if they think long enough on it, but who wants to think very long on anything these days? For those of us somewhere in the middle – of life, of death, of the past and present – there’s something between grace and acceptance, a balance that is precariously perched on the bloom of the columbine, and such prettiness was never meant to last.
