Speaking of Succulents


A year and a month ago, I was a posy person. Flowers meant roses, peonies, pansies, daffodils and tulips. I wouldn’t have spared a glance for succulents and their cacti cousins without giving them a glance.

Today, I walk among succulents every time I follow the walk between the patio and the carport.

The scorching summer turned me into a water brigade of one. Standing among the succulents, sprayer in hand, I see them with new eyes. First are the shapes. Some geometric: precise angles assembled by blueprint. Others artsy: imprecise curves assembled by whim. Then there are the colors: soft pastels subtly blended or layered over each other. Almost daily, there is a surprise waiting for me. Overnight something grey and spiny erupted into yellow blossoms. A plant, half-dollar sized, wears a coral button for a flower. That once overlooked and disregarded has become magical, enchanting.

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