I created a new Memorial Garden in the spring of 2020. A perfect corner, the spot was filled morning sun until 2:00 p.m. and because getting the heat from the sun and no wind, it seemed an ideal place, and almost created a "greenhouse" effect with the warmth.
Among eight new perennials, were two poppies - one white and one pink/salmon color. I couldn't wait for all of the new plants to grow and bloom. This is what brings hope to my soul every year - the perennials know when its safe to grow up out of the soil. Somehow they know when the snow is gone and when its time to bring Hope to the earth.
All of the perennials - butterfly bush, dahlia, holly hocks, lavendar, blanket flower and 1 poppy - grew and bloomed. However, the salmon/pink poppy never even grew to a bud. I was disappointed, but there's always next year, I thought.
Now its fall, October 6 to be exact and I was surprised that my poppy decided now was the time, or maybe never in 2020. Now? I thought. Though excited, I was fearful it would never grow fast enough to get to blooming maturity, before the cold air would be the norm. And there's always a fear that snow will come early. I called this late bloomer poppy, Hope.
I've been watching Hope Poppy grow taller and stand strong, and hoping this warm corner, despite the cold temps in the daytime and with leaves falling fast and the season ending early, that my Hope Poppy will bloom.
When it snowed on Saturday, October 17, I snipped it off as close to the ground as possible and put it in warm water in the windowsill with the brightest light. And hoped. At first its neck was bowing down to the floor, but I whispered, "Don't give up now. You've been given a chance. You have a beautiful blossom to reveal!"
Though its colder by the window compared to the corner Memorial Garden in the summer, I placed it here so that the bud would hang over the radiator heat. Here it has a pseudo corner garden spot, the best I have to offer, for my Hope Poppy.
Every day I check on Hope Poppy's neck, and within the first 24-hour period I saw that she was reaching for the light. Hope Poppy isn't done yet! Today I saw the color of her blossom more clearly. "You can do it Hope! Can't wait to see what you look like in full bloom - yes, there is Hope!"
Raising Hope, giving Hope Poppy a chance to bloom and survive, has been one of the most enjoyable and "hopeful" things I've done during the last seven months (Apr - Oct 2020). Not only did I check her out each morning, and at the end of the day, but several times during the daylight hours I viewed her progress. Each day I was sure this was as far as she would grow, thinking that water and sunlight might not be enough. So with that thought in mind, I started to appreciate Hope Poppy even more at each stage of growth. I was just thankful I had given it a chance for warmth in its first year.
I really enjoyed getting close to Hope Poppy; to looking at her neck and the fine hairs on the leaves and stem (neck). I saw how strong that neck curved to reach the light and even when I tried to change the position of stem in the vase, Hope Poppy still stood the same way.
In this day and age, when many are discussing the rights of an unborn child to live despite the way it was conceived, I couldn't help but think of Hope Poppy as such a child. Perhaps you might think of a new life, yes, even the life of a human when you look at the progress photos of Hope Poppy. I became quite taken by the parts of Hope Poppy that could be a body, a pregnant body, one that was growing despite the turn in its life of blooming late, and being rescued from death of an early snow. I could see before my eyes that this plant, this poppy, this living thing was going to show me how it would continue to grow and bulge and reveal its intricate parts that I would have never seen if it was growing in the garden. There are parts that look like blood vessels, and the petals that remind me of a wrinkled little child.
All those petals, folded up inside the body. Each day the body separated just a little more as the wrinkled petals pushed their way out.
Here, she hovered over the radiator and absorbed the heat.
Have you ever thought that just maybe you were meant to do something that you never thought about doing before? This is that moment. Please join me in viewing Hope Poppy's entrance into the world - late, but oh, so beautiful.
As the wrinkled petals pushed their way out, the body with blood-vessel-looking sides was revealed.Now that the petals have pushed out, we can get a sneak peak of Hope Poppy's face.
I was intrigued by the many hairs on the stem and leaves.
Even when I moved the heavy stem to stand taller, it ended up leaning down to hover over the radiator. It was that heavy.
I realized I couldn't stand by and just wait for Hope Poppy to "pop". It wasn't that I didn't have time or that I was busy with other tasks. I heard the old belief in my mind, "a watched pot doesn't boil" so I went on with my day and planned to check in just a little later. Like a mother in labor, the baby, the poppy would be born or bloom when the time was just right.
And the time came. I didn't see it happen, but I was so delighted to see that this plant, perhaps combined with light and warmth and maybe a little CO2 encouragement from me, (my voice of encouragement), has bloomed to full size in a most amazing sight.
Isn't this late bloomer beautiful?!
Continuing with the analogy of new life, a life that may not have been planned this way, or even a life that may have been forgotten or lost, this is the beauty that was meant to live and bring meaning and joy.
I've never seen a poppy open quite this wide. Perhaps its the type of poppy. My red poppies open around July 4, but if I don't see them, they last one day and are gone. Beginning with the next season, when my red poppies and white and salmon poppies grow to bud stage, I will clip their long stems, bring them indoors and perhaps I will see the growth and birth of those poppies in a whole new light - just like a whole new life. I have been so honored by Hope Poppy. Perhaps it is God's way to explain new life in a beautiful unexpected way.
The day after Hope Poppy bloomed indoors in my pseudo garden on the east windowsill, an early snow fell heavy on the trees and bushes, but not on Hope Poppy.
Lovely!
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