Following the first storm, we received 3 more days of rain. Not lovely, comforting soft drizzle but dark skies occasionally torn open with startling bursts of thunder and lightning, and hard, pounding rain. Tall plants bent over crushed, the petunias were shredded in their planters — especially tattered were the beautiful Crème Brulée petunias — and the stout branches of our south Ash tree succumbed to the weight of the water on its over extended 20 foot limbs. Sadly, the branches are now in 2 foot lengths drying out for firewood for summer camping trips and the front of our house that was once shaded with it leafy veil is now naked and exposed to view.

In the midst of that I wondered briefly about the Sorbet blossom. How would it hold up or would it at all? If the Ash tree couldn’t withstand the storms how was a fragile, first time peony blossom supposed to? Other matters occupied my attention though and I had little opportunity to survey the effects of our summer storms on this newly emerged anchor of the potager. Eventually the sun returned, rains ceased – at least for now – and quiet reigned instead over the garden. This morning I took a walk to see how it all fared. True to its strengths the peony survived fine: a little dirtied for the experience but undamaged and undaunted. For its brief bloom period Sorbet is glimmering in the garden, shaded by the Crack Willow and among other perennial friends.

Well situated peonies can live for 50 years, longer than many types of trees, and far longer than most varieties of flowers. Their bloom period is brief in the early heat of summer and then they produce no more till the following year. Yet with beautiful, glossy sculpted foliage, heady with fragrance and colours ranging from pure whites and subtle pastels to dazzling brights, peonies bring a distinct and measured grace to the garden. In a few days this blossom will fade and in the weeks ahead this corner of the garden will be lit up by other faithful blooms – Asiatic lilies, Hyssop, Black Prince Snapdragon, Rubeckia, and eventually Little Lamb Hydrangea. And ever mesmerizing Cream Abundance Roses that will bloom sweetly and magically all summer. But the peony is the first strong bloom to brighten the shade here and she will likely outlive all else in this bed, save the Rosa Glauca growing behind her.

Waiting is an intrinsic element of living a life in order. All deep happiness is preceded and underscored not only by periods of waiting but more importantly, by the deliberate practices of waiting. The waiting I am referring to is not idle or powerless, unfocused or irritated though for most of us those aspects must be faced and overcome. No, the waiting I am talking about is much more purposeful. This kind of waiting has threads of trust, respect, and vision inherent in it. It is the acknowledgment that there are origins and rhythms of life not directed by our own self will but by a greater will beyond ours to which we must bow and yield. The deepest kind of freedom comes from the willing surrender of our own will and trusting the deeper pace of life.

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Two years ago I bought four little peony crowns – each resembling something like a dried up mass of tangled worms. I planted them in pots because at the time I didn’t have space in the garden ready for them and beyond watering them regularly I did little else for them. Much to my joy and gratitude (not to mention, surprise) they survived the first winter and thrived in the pots. They cheerfully grew all that summer and went into dormancy at the expected time when autumn came. This winter (2010) was the longest I can ever remember in our area – darker, colder, more lingering snow than I have ever seen. I doubted the peonies would come through. But ever so sweetly, when spring finally did make her much longed for appearance so did the peonies. What a delight! By now my thoughts were collected about where they should go in the gardens for more permanent placement and the soil was ready. Each one got planted into well tilled garden soil, all in different parts of the gardens and were given a proper drink of Super Thrive (a product every gardener should always have on hand) – and remarkably there did not appear a single wilted leaf or drooping stem among them. Within weeks the first big buds showed up. Last week, after two plus years of waiting the first blossom opened. Sorbet, a beloved variety of peony, in all its beauty emerged quietly and without fanfare in the northern part of our potager (French word for kitchen garden).

In a modern day fairy tale this would be the happy ending. The original vision had come to fruition, effort had been made, a sacrifice of delayed gratification had been offered and the result triumphed over the long period of waiting. In life however the story arc is always longer and more complicated. In this case, the bloom occurred as I have told you, but it was followed by a violent rain and hail storm not half and hour after this photograph was taken. When I went out afterward to survey the damage, I found the single Sorbet blossom folded tightly shut. Was the single glimpse of the blossom worth the wait of two years? Would it open again or was that the rather anti-climatic end for this season?

“If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea.”

– Antoine de Saint Exupéry

The ground beneath my thinking and searching for a more balanced way to live is based on an ancient promise made by God and recorded in the Old Testament.  He expresses again and again His willingness to teach His children how to live fully and well.  Two places preserving these promises that particularly linger with me are in the books of two prophets, Jeremiah and Isaiah. Jeremiah records God’s words saying “Thus says the Lord, Stand by the roads and look, and ask for the eternal paths, where is the good, old way; then walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls….” — Jeremiah 6:16   A variation of this same promise is found in the book of Isaiah saying “Thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, In returning to Me and resting in Me you shall be saved; in quietness and in (trusting) confidence shall be your strength.” — Isaiah 30:15

I certainly in myself do not know the way to this kind of peace and my personal life experiences bear that out. In the quiet place of my heart it seems like a miracle that there is a path to this state of rest that can be lived in my day-to-day life. A greater miracle to me is that the One Who is the actual source and author of it is willing to show me the Way if I am willing to listen and to obey.

There is something deeply soothing and comforting in the simple beauty of a single flower. Whether it is living and growing outdoors or used as ornament in our home, the perfect beauty it represents affords us a breath of peace. Enjoy.

” Be still and know that I Am God.” — Psalm 46:10