Yield
Down the road there's a field of dark sunflowers, wilted and dry. "It's sad," she said as we drove past it.
When I first noticed the field earlier this summer, I made a mental note to stop and shoot the sunflowers while they were in bloom one day. Planted in neat rows their slender stalks stood so high, reaching for the sun with heavy crowns of gold. A stunning view. I knew they wouldn't last. Yet I never stopped.
Posted on Monday, September 1, 2008 at 11:00PM
by
Stephanie Roberts
in Nature, sunflowers, life, death, time
|
4 Comments
Stephanie Roberts
in Nature, sunflowers, life, death, time
|
4 Comments
Reader Comments (4)
...well there's always Next year. I've seen some awesome photo's of dying sunflowers tho. So try that this year. I'm going to!!
Sadness
can be recycled.
Our little community of urban town homes has a garden where we share a bit of earth as our common yard. Within that area are two benches presumably for sitting and reading... at least, that's what I would use them for. About a two months ago, I couldn't even see the benches because they were covered with the blooms of the white roses surrounding them. I kept thinking, I need to sit there... just to soak them up... and maybe take a shot... never did.
Sad...
This is perhaps why Van Gogh painted those incredible sunflowers. Such wondrous bold beings. Maybe it's OK... noticing changes, decay, endings "too late." Ideally, we remember then to surrender to an understanding that we can't witness, experience, stay with every wish, idea, dream. Often, we don't follow through because... time does not stand still and neither do we. It's usually OK.