Almost every day, after several hours spent working or lately perfecting the fine art of CYA, I take a nice, long walk through the historic district surrounding me. I walk all the way down to my favorite street - Lynwood - and take the long way back to my little pad. I zigzag up and down the blocks and walk by stately mansions, some still in the process of being restored to their former glory. I make sure to walk past my favorite home every day, a strange green and white structure mixing Spanish and Craftsman architecture. It also boasts a beautiful garden, beautiful enough to elicit admiration from my 8-year-old nephew!
As I walk down the tree-lined streets my sense of smell is filled with the mingling aromas of honeysuckle, roses, magnolias, lavender and a variety of other flowers carefully tended and proudly watching over the old homes. The air smells so fresh and fragrant that I wish I could find a bench on which to sit so I could linger in the scent.
As I continue walking, my eyes feast on the beautiful colors and shapes of the delicate petals gracing the proud stems. The shockingly orange, yellow and pink hibiscus on the corner. The beautifully tended and sculpted rosebushes. The gorgeous, flowering magnolias. The whimsical and wild honeysuckle. In my mind they collide and resemble an abstract painting.
Being surrounded by beauty brings deep peace and contentment to my weary soul. That's one reason why flowers are one of my favorite gifts. It makes me feel special to have someone spend money to give me a few moments of something beautiful. Flowers are also one of the few indulgences I allow myself. I think it's because they are impractical and contrast sharply with my practical nature. No matter how hard I try I cannot resist their beauty, nor do I want to. Besides, I can ultimately justify the expense; it really IS practical to buy myself flowers because it keeps me on my diet. After all, I purchase flowers with money that would have otherwise been spent on food!
So, if you happen to see a girl with her nose buried in the magnolia blossoms, or her mouth agape as she drools over the abundance of choices in the flower department at the local grocery store, it's probably me, appreciating God's creativity and bold use of color and form. As I find rest and peace in beauty my soul finds the freedom to worship the One who loves me enough to delight all of my senses.
