I woke up this morning to a loud, familiar sound just outside my bedroom window. The low rumbling terrified me to my very core and in dreaded anticipation, I walked to the window silently pleading, Please don't let it be... The snow plow. A fresh layer of white had fallen on the the newly emerging patches of green on the ground. Now everything was again white. I love the snow, don't get me wrong. And it's beautiful too, it's just been... too white for too long.
I stopped by my husband's work where he was pulling a double shift on this President's Day. He told me that he wanted to show me something and took me to Thomas Edison's green house. I entered into a warm oasis of vibrant color amidst the never ending white. I couldn't stop taking pictures. I was especially struck by the shape the blooms made against the steamy, glass greenhouse wall. (Click on photos to enlarge)
One tiny orange, growing out of season.
This flower has a face. Can you see it?
These flowers were truly a bright spot in my white day!
"Look at us, said the violets blooming at her feet, all last winter we slept in the seeming death but at the right time God awakened us, and here we are to comfort you." ~Edward Payson Rod
Comments
Hilary, thanks so much. The first one is my favorite too. I couldn't believe it turned out so well!