This is the lovely Fall blooming Crocus. Her stamen – the fiber like structures in the center of the flower – are covered with the exquisite spice Saffron. Although, you would have to plant a field of them to get enough seasoning to flavor a dish of rice.
Delicate of petal, subtle of scent and standing only two inches tall, the Fall Crocus watches over a garden of fading leaves like a tiny sentinel bearing witness to Season’s end. Her size and fragility not withstanding she can endure snow, sleet, rain and wind with perfect dignity.
A master gardener learns to devoutly respect and honor each flower in her time. The sweet Tulip, Brigit’s cup of Spring, overflows into the sensuous, swelling stream of Summer. There Rose holds dominion. Her fading scent is prophesy of the coming Autumn, the mum and the tiny Crocus whose golden pollen will see the Tulip return again. Life is a wheel, not a ladder.
This is the wisdom and passion the Goddess bestows on the gardener. Blessings of the new Season from Her many flowers and me to all of you.
