There are roses outside my parent’s house that I notice each year in the fall. They are a little rebellious and cheeky because in a season when they are supposed to be done, they are in full bloom again and still growing. (Roses are more of a June thing in Canada) Yesterday as I was leaving their house – there they were. Boldly blooming in the fall, in a season when everything else is fading away.
“Hello pretty roses,” I say as I walk by. I don’t normally talk to flowers, but I feel they deserve my attention since clearly they are showing off for the second time this year. Their garden encore. I need to acknowledge that they made it this far, again.
I know they won’t last forever (although one year they made it to the first snowfall and were beautifully encased in ice) and in a couple weeks they’ll gently say good-bye as the fall winds come. But right now they are standing strong, lining the house with a row of colour. Trying to get their last bit of beauty-hurrah displayed before the long winter arrives.
Showing that seasons aren’t always what we expect.
We all walk through times of growth and bloom, and chapters where it feels like nothing is growing at all. In a few weeks when those pink petals hit the ground and begin to blend in with the fall leaves, no one will be looking at the rose bushes anymore. Their impressive double-bloom will be forgotten.
The season has run it’s course.
We stop thinking about those beautiful roses. Who’s going to get excited about prickly bare twigs sticking up through the ground? Cold hard dirt that doesn’t look pretty? We forget all about the blooms once they are gone and replaced by drifts of snow. Not remembering the glorious display they once held. Yet, underneath the cold hard soil the roots are working hard.
We forget the part of the season that’s buried down deep.
Without the roots, there would be no bloom.
The beauty is in the getting ready.
The beauty is in the growth.
The beauty comes from the deep places.
It’s always there, even when you can’t see it.
Life is not always a glorious display. When seasons change and things look different, we panic because we don’t understand what’s next. We don’t know what life will be like when the flowers come up again, but there is a time when we have to let things go. Trust that what’s buried deep will be enough for the next season, prepare the soil for the future – no matter what it brings.
Value the growth as much as the display.
Bloom when you can, and give it all you have.
You might not see the blooms in every season, but they come back.
They might even surprise you, and give you hope.
Show up twice.
Like a June rose, living an unexpected October life.