Sunday, September 23, 2012

Under the Spell

Some days at market the "Dahlia Man" sets up a stall next to ours.  He brings the most breathtakingly beautiful dahlias that are an absolute distraction for me.  I feel hypnotized by their unusual colors and forms.  I gush over over them and say things to the dahlia man's wife like, "Aren't you afraid the women are going to get TOO friendly with your husband?  Women love a man who can cultivate flowers you know."  It makes her laugh.  Finally I broke down and bought a bunch of his award winning dahlias.  (The Dahlia Man is extremely humble so that no one would know he has won multiple awards and is recognized around the nation for his horticultural abilities.)  Between gushing and swooning over the flowers, I publicly PROCLAIM, with extreme enthusiasm, each varieties special qualities, "Look at that color!  Oh my gosh!  The form of those petals!  Look at how big that is!"  Then in a state of doubt and grief I recluctantly chose these beautiful flowers.  I had no regrets later I just stared and admired and let myself fill with gratitude and sent up a prayer of blessings on the dahlia man.    
Can't you just tell they are grown with love?

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