I harvested a bouquet from the balcony today, and it has me thinking about the word perennial. The dictionary says:
of a plant : living for several years or for many years : having a life cycle that is more than two years long
: existing or continuing in the same way for a long time
So did the large purple pansy, though the lavender that had been planted in the same pot didn’t make it.
The chive blossoms came from a plant that has survived three winters on the balcony.
The coreopsis, that cheery yellow bloom, is the newest plant at my balcony garden. There was another coreopsis here for a few years, but this past winter was too much for it. And there was one next to the front steps at the last home I lived in. I hope and expect this one will return next spring. Three different plants, but same buttery blossoms, tracking the sun.
And the thesaurus adds:
abiding, enduring, lasting, everlasting, perpetual, eternal, continuing, unending, unceasing, never-ending, endless, undying, ceaseless, persisting, permanent, constant, continual, unfailing, unchanging, never-changing
To the left: a teapot Mom gave me when I was in junior high. To the right: a teapot her mother, my grandmother, gave me when I was in high school. On the wall behind them: recipes from both women, in their own handwriting, slips of paper that fell from cookbooks long after they left their earthly kitchens.
Beyond the frame, unseen but remembered: Dad, who is the only one of my blood relatives to have been in this kitchen, and whose voice was on the other end of the line on many Friday mornings while bread was baking here.
Blooms of memory: abiding, persisting, enduring, perennial