And I hope you read the title in your best Joey Tribbiani voice....
I started writing this blog last year after having seen a situation and just wanting to just get the message out there we all "bloom a little differently" in our season of life. Looking at the Camellia tree one morning and comparing the blooms, thinking how different each bloom was in it's own way, the title just clicked perfectly.
Recently I shared a post about the history of the 70+ year old Adolphe Audusson Camellia tree by the front porch of my home. I remember as a child looking forward to it each year so I could pull the blooms apart and toss them on the ground as if I were a little flower girl in a wedding.
My Granny Doris loved that tree blooming every year. Now, I look forward to coming home this time of year to see my steps covered in the many shades of pink petals and blooms that have served their time for this season. These blooms put a smile on my face every morning headed to work and every night when I get home. It makes me all nostalgic and I take trips down memory lane often.
I started writing this blog last year after having seen a situation and just wanting to just get the message out there we all "bloom a little differently" in our season of life. Looking at the Camellia tree one morning and comparing the blooms, thinking how different each bloom was in it's own way, the title just clicked perfectly.
Recently I shared a post about the history of the 70+ year old Adolphe Audusson Camellia tree by the front porch of my home. I remember as a child looking forward to it each year so I could pull the blooms apart and toss them on the ground as if I were a little flower girl in a wedding.
My Granny Doris loved that tree blooming every year. Now, I look forward to coming home this time of year to see my steps covered in the many shades of pink petals and blooms that have served their time for this season. These blooms put a smile on my face every morning headed to work and every night when I get home. It makes me all nostalgic and I take trips down memory lane often.
For the last few years, I have started freezing the petals in zip lock bags every year to preserve them for special moments. Kind of a way to memorialize my Granny and Papa.
This year, I have taken the time to look closely at the blooms as I have picked them to freeze. I have noticed, they are not all the same. Some have ruffles. Some have double blooms on them. Some are smaller. Some are bigger. Some are the same. Many are different. As I was taking photos the other day, I realized even though there are different styles of blooms on this one tree, there is beauty in each bloom. Each bloom alone is amazing, but when you get all the blooms together it becomes spectacular!
Just like in life, we all bloom a little differently. We are all unique. We are all our own person. What we make think are flaws within ourselves, someone else finds the beauty in our imperfections. Our bloom time, aka life, is fragile. We don't know how long we will be on this tree holding on and showcasing our life... living our life. But each day, we bring our own blooming beauty into the world.
To be honest, as a kid growing up, I hated I mean hated my red hair and my ugly freckles. I was embarrassed and ashamed of them. Now as an adult, I realize they are what make me unique. And it kinda gives you a trademark. Sometimes people misjudge you because of the uniqueness they only see on the surface. Just like the flower that has two blooms, we are all different but it makes us who we are. We are all different in our own amazing way.
Just like the blooms, if you start removing the petals or our skin, once you get down to our core being, we are all the same. The blooms have their stems that hold each petal into place. We have the same make up. We all have a heart. A soul. We all have feelings.
Sometimes we lose our complete focus on the bloom that is in front of us because we are looking beyond the petals at the tree. We focus on the tree and all the chaos, we lose sight of what is going on right in front of us. Just like with our fellow brothers and sisters we cross on our journey. We focus on the chaos around them and totally miss the person.
Just like the blooms, we emulate feelings when we are dealing with others. Are we helping or hurting those around us. Are we causing peace or discord among others. Are we helping others in their time of need or are we too selfish and only think of ourselves. Are strangers happy that they've met you or do they walk away with hoping to never cross your path again.
It is not how you bloom in life, but what you produce when you bloom.
Original Facebook post about the Camellias:
I just called and questioned my cousin who is in her 80's Delilah Boyd to confirm. Delilah's daddy (Clyde) Ellis was my Granny Doris' older brother. He was married to Anna or as we called her Aunt Unnie. That makes them my great Uncle Clyde and Great Aunt Unnie. Somewhere between 1945 - 1949, Mrs. Betty Duncan came up to Pridgen, Georgia, from Jacksonville, Florida, with a single bloom of this flower. Aunt Unnie took the sprigs off the bloom and rooted a total of six trees. Those trees are/were located at my Granny's (mine now), Aunt Unnie's (now George's), Mrs. Betty Duncan, Mrs. Bessie Howe, Granny Blount, and Delilah's old river house (Minshew). We know at least three of these are still living. Seeing these every morning this time of year reminds me so much of my Granny. Her sitting on her front porch swing with a sweet tea, those long skinny cigarettes, and singing "Swing low sweet chariot"... I miss those days. Life was so much simpler. I wish this tree could talk and tell all of what she's seen over the last 70 years. The freezes. The storms. The drought. The rain. The memories our family has made sitting right there on those ole concrete steps and front porch. She sure has weathered a lot in her time but she is still just as beautiful each year as she was the year before... #camellia #memories #countrylife #nostalgia #familyhistory #nature #flowers #photography
