Mum’s the word
I am sitting at the table on my covered porch on a beautiful fall day in Wheeling, WV. Directly in front of me reposing in the center of the table is a perfectly shaped light purple (or is it deep rose) chrysanthemum. I have no idea how it got so perfectly shaped into a round ball. The ones I grow do not approach this perfection. Wikipedia tells me that chrysanthemum “are flowering plants of the genus Chrysanthemum in the family Asteraceae. They are native to East Asia’s and northeastern Europe. Most specIes originate from East Asia and center of diversity is in China.” I wonder if the plants carry generational history as do us humans. If so, what tales could this chrysanthemum sitting on my table in Wheeling, WV tell. I think about the fact generations of these plants have grown in soil which contained the dust and, thus, the energy of wise ancestral elders. What is it that they want to teach?
The one sitting on my table have blossoms which seem to be 1/2” to 3/4”. Not only is the plant nearly perfectly rounded but there are hundreds of blossoms coming of age at the same time. Fortunately the blossoms have no need of social distance and are keeping each other close company on this fall morning in air which is cool enough to lightly tickles one.
The blossoms make no sounds or at least none I am capable of hearing. Yet, i know that all living matter have their own communication system. We know, for example, trees and the surrounding neighbors communicate and make adjustment to stay in balance with each other.
Does this mum sitting in a pot on my table have anything to say to other potted plants on this porch or to the nearly lilacs, forsythia, heather, and various herbs? What might they say to the Lenten roses
How do the blossoms feel about the emissions from the many vehicles on the nearby highway? Are they angry or sad about the mean spirited political words which various ones are hurling at each other?
The air is rife with fear of the opinions of others; of the fear of some that this nation is not immune from extinction; of the fear there are too many children being born; of the fear there are too few children being born; of the fear that there are too many guns; of the fear that someone night make it more difficult to kill each other; of the fear that we have to share resources more equally with each other; of the fear that good people will not have a private bath for each bathroom; of the fear that one will not know one’s worth if one cannot be more than, better than, richer than, more powerful than, more righteous than or ...?
It is good us humans are so evolved - so superior to the lowly Chrysanthemum - that we do not need to consider such issues as balancing the needs of all matter. It is good that us many of us humans hold the homeless in distain, are committed to owning land, private vehicles and stuff so plentiful that we need storage sheds. It is good that we have little pyramids known as caskets which prevent us, even in death, of sharing our dust.
What might the Chrysanthemum say if I had the courage to listen? What if even covid-19 could not keep stop school from being in session right here on the porch sitting at the table which belonged to my friend Mary? What if Mary chimes in? What might she say years after her human death?
Mum’s the word?
Written September 26, 2020
Jimmy F Pickett
coachpickett.org
I am sitting at the table on my covered porch on a beautiful fall day in Wheeling, WV. Directly in front of me reposing in the center of the table is a perfectly shaped light purple (or is it deep rose) chrysanthemum. I have no idea how it got so perfectly shaped into a round ball. The ones I grow do not approach this perfection. Wikipedia tells me that chrysanthemum “are flowering plants of the genus Chrysanthemum in the family Asteraceae. They are native to East Asia’s and northeastern Europe. Most specIes originate from East Asia and center of diversity is in China.” I wonder if the plants carry generational history as do us humans. If so, what tales could this chrysanthemum sitting on my table in Wheeling, WV tell. I think about the fact generations of these plants have grown in soil which contained the dust and, thus, the energy of wise ancestral elders. What is it that they want to teach?
The one sitting on my table have blossoms which seem to be 1/2” to 3/4”. Not only is the plant nearly perfectly rounded but there are hundreds of blossoms coming of age at the same time. Fortunately the blossoms have no need of social distance and are keeping each other close company on this fall morning in air which is cool enough to lightly tickles one.
The blossoms make no sounds or at least none I am capable of hearing. Yet, i know that all living matter have their own communication system. We know, for example, trees and the surrounding neighbors communicate and make adjustment to stay in balance with each other.
Does this mum sitting in a pot on my table have anything to say to other potted plants on this porch or to the nearly lilacs, forsythia, heather, and various herbs? What might they say to the Lenten roses
How do the blossoms feel about the emissions from the many vehicles on the nearby highway? Are they angry or sad about the mean spirited political words which various ones are hurling at each other?
The air is rife with fear of the opinions of others; of the fear of some that this nation is not immune from extinction; of the fear there are too many children being born; of the fear there are too few children being born; of the fear that there are too many guns; of the fear that someone night make it more difficult to kill each other; of the fear that we have to share resources more equally with each other; of the fear that good people will not have a private bath for each bathroom; of the fear that one will not know one’s worth if one cannot be more than, better than, richer than, more powerful than, more righteous than or ...?
It is good us humans are so evolved - so superior to the lowly Chrysanthemum - that we do not need to consider such issues as balancing the needs of all matter. It is good that us many of us humans hold the homeless in distain, are committed to owning land, private vehicles and stuff so plentiful that we need storage sheds. It is good that we have little pyramids known as caskets which prevent us, even in death, of sharing our dust.
What might the Chrysanthemum say if I had the courage to listen? What if even covid-19 could not keep stop school from being in session right here on the porch sitting at the table which belonged to my friend Mary? What if Mary chimes in? What might she say years after her human death?
Mum’s the word?
Written September 26, 2020
Jimmy F Pickett
coachpickett.org
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