Flowers, Flowers, Flowers

Lilac colored roses and stargazer lilies assembled in a vase shaped like a mason jar with a beveled surface. Placed in the center of the patio table. The lilies’ edges are toasted by the sun. Roasted marshmallow lilies. Roses remain new. The vase sparkles in the sun, beveled glass catching the light. Flowers, flowers, flowers have been flowing through the front door into the back garden for a month.

Every arrangement sent with sympathy, kindness, and care contains a threat unimagined by the sender. Many flowers are toxic to cats. Our five cats, little living treasures, little flames of fur and light. Playful, daring creatures, rose thieves, shelf scalers, couch shredders, purring pools of warmth. Flowers are banished to the patio where they can’t be eaten by flower eaters.

Viewed from the window, from the doorway, or while outside, the roses retain their pale purple hue. The wind blows them over. Waterfall down the side of the patio table. Orange pollen scattered over the white surface bleeds into the cascade. Righted, re-watered, they are well again. A little bruised. The vase still glitters.

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