A few days ago I bought camellias. Two tall specimens, destined to flank the patio, adding color and charm. I put them in the garage to ride out a pending winter blast – which lasted but a day. The following afternoon I planted them in large pots and traded the fading blooms of fall with colorful pansies and sweet alyssum. The warmth of the sun made for a sublime day.

This morning I stitched a blanket for a baby soon to be born. The rhythmic movements creating a time of mindfulness for me, just as the gardening had done a few days prior, both providing a needed respite from the inescapable thoughts of a dying friend.

This is life. Different from one day to the next. Giving and taking. Full of extremes, and lacking guarantees. What is here one day may not be here tomorrow. My task is to find the joy and beauty and love in each day. Because tomorrow will be different.

My camellias will always remind me of that.

*** For some reason I stopped writing a few years ago and mountains of words have since piled up in my head. But today I knew I had to get them out. ***