life loves being loved

218

The hibiscus was sick, struggling, being attacked by sucking and chewing insects.  Once in a while it would open up a spectacular burgundy bloom to the sky, as if sending up a mayday flare.

I tended it with food and water; the predators were transferred elsewhere; infected tips were cut off and it was watched tenderly.  But its home ground was devoid of nourishment – the big tree roots had taken, and continued to take, all the life from the little garden.  Radical change was called for.

Up it came from the wasteland.  Down went its roots into its own prepared pot.  A little reiki for recovery, then it went into intensive care.

Within a week every chewed leaf had turned to a glorious display of bright ginko gold.  It seemed like a gesture of gratitude, for there was no longer any sense that the plant was ill – indeed, it was robust and new green buds were already appearing.

Yet curiously, not all the old tired leaves left the plant.  Some, only a few, remained.

It’s only now that the plant is covered with new leaves and blossom buds that the last of the old ones are dropping off …

Hmmm. Now that’s interesting.  Those old unwanted bits of Beingness clearly serve a purpose.  They fall away in their own good time.

If I am present, watching, listening, Nature answers my every question.  Elegantly, patiently and tenderly.  She loves being loved.

~

6 thoughts on “life loves being loved

    1. Dearest Shira – thank you thank you for your sweet comment – and your beautiful letter too – you will hear from me soon!
      With love and deep respect
      ~ ml

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s