High Summer Sunflowers fill the vase barely leaving room for echinacea, wild daisy, salvia and black eye Susan.
These are the days I dream of in the mid winter when pouring over seed catalogs and gazing out over the snow covered fields. Sweet summer sunshine daydreams…
This week in the vase are Tricolor salvia , the last poppy buds, Zeolight calendula, baby’s breath, echinacea, self seeded larkspur and sunflowers.
Self seeded sunflowers were planted the year my daughter married. She asked me to grow sunflowers for her. It was a magnificent season, the garden burst with lemon, yellow and maroon sunflowers from July through September. I let them grow and leave them for the birds now. Every summer I am delighted again and send photos to my daughter. A legacy of love.
Shasta Daisy was planted three years ago and is happy in the corner spot of the garden. I like the way the white and yellow petals balance each other .
Tricolor Salvia is a favorite of mine in bouquets. It is subtle but adds color and shape to the mix.
Mint fills the room with its aroma and gives the house a pleasant undertone.
Purple Clover, Meadow Daisy, and Black Eyed Susan all perennial flowers returning every summer to dance in the field with the wind.
Returning to the Memorial Garden, singing farewell songs and remembering Cully. He educated thousands of of people about our God-given right to cannabis and the benefits of the hemp plant. When folks were divided about this or that in the Maine cannabis community, Cully kept going, doing the work that needed to be done. Teaching.
With the powerful wail of the bagpipes setting his earth spirt free, I recommitted mySelf in his honor and memory to never back down from doing my part to speak truth to power. There are so many acts of “resistance of the heart against business as usual” to be done. I think that when we do what we can individually, the collective impact creates the world we want to live in.
We just don’t get to know how anything will turn out. What we get to do is the work to make it possible. So we go in faith, hope and love. But we must surely keep going. Keep the faith. Walk in beauty. Seek joy. Turn on your love light and let it shine.
In the beginning, I did not know what this plant would bring to the Memorial Garden. I still don’t know anything but the magnificent fragrance and bouncy cheerful color I can see from my kitchen window. And I remember Cully’s mischievous grin. His vibrant twinkle. The sticky sweet green bud he shared so freely and with such pleasure.
The work of liberation and resistance doesn’t end. Harry say that rights are not given, they are won and taken. The garden needs weeding, so the fullness of color has space to emerge. Weeds of indecision, past regrets, discouragement, fear, weariness–rip them out and make way for an explosion of color revolution.
Cully was one of the political forces that created The Hill. To the cause of cannabis liberation, he did indeed commit his life, his fortune and his sacred honor. In honoring his work, we can do no less.