Freedom to bloom

A person sitting on the ground in front of water.


The Jasmine along the lakefront fence was an unruly mass of twisted vines when we arrived.   When we left just a few short weeks ago,  it was still winter.  All growth had stopped and the dormant vines  clung to each other for protection against the storms.   But with the sunshine and spring rains had come new growth.  Bright yellow blossoms had burst open and their intoxicating fragrance hung in the air.  The tangled vines, energized by new growth,  crowded against each other, seeking freedom.

I spent the first sunny morning carefully untangling and coaxing  vines into place along the fence, smiling to myself as they seemed to literally jump for joy as they sprung free.   But some defied any attempt to free them.  They were so  tightly wrapped around each other that they had become brittle, barren stems, virtually fused together.

Perhaps  we are like that, too.  When we cling too tightly to another person,  an object, or ideology for protection, we lose our taste for freedom and miss the chance to bloom.

Sunrise surprise

There is a large vine on the fence by the lake that was not there last year. Its roots are buried under a concrete fencepost and it survived the coldest winter in recent history with no care at all. I assumed it was an annoying weed I would have to pull out,  probably two hours’ work. But overnight it opened its blossoms. It is Crossvine (Bignonia Capreolata to the naturalists).  A beautiful reminder that Nature has wonderful surprises in store for us in places we least expect to find them.

A person sitting on the ground in front of water.