Seize The Day ~ A Lesson In Flowers


You  have to be out of bed rather earlier than I am to catch the Morning Glories unfurling.  That is probably lesson  number one: be up and doing earlier in the day; nurture the creative impulse before the world of dreaming totally recedes and mundane matters like doing the washing impose.

Then there is the lesson of making the most of opportunities as they arise, and at least here I came up to scratch. I dashed outside in my night attire to capture this scene. The hoverfly will feast. The Morning Glory will be pollinated. And I am watching, recording and posting. Everyone wins.

All the same, on the side lines my writer’s nerves are jangling. There are other lessons here. For one thing I have several works in stasis, projects that I dearly wish to complete. But for some reason I’m not attending to any of them. The danger is that procrastination may soon transmogrify into something toxic – a stultifying sense of failure that in turn becomes a downward spiral of non-doing and self-recrimination. The writer’s vicious circle.


But wait! I’m hurrying back to see what has happened to the Morning Glory. By late afternoon the sky coloured canopy of the day’s high hopes has imploded – the colours deepening, bruise-like.  It is hard not to feel a pang of loss for such swiftly passing loveliness.

Yet there is a beauty here too in the subtle end-of-spectrum shades. Not failure, but process. Deep within the crumpled sheath things are happening. The hoverfly has done its work. There will be fruit in the making, new seeds to ripen and sow. Tomorrow is another day. Another chance to bloom. Time to get back to work then.


copyright 2017 Tish Farrell


P.S. For more beauty in decay, pop over to Sue Judd’s blog. It is a theme she explores in many arresting photo essays

30 thoughts on “Seize The Day ~ A Lesson In Flowers

  1. Hi Tish, beautiful Morning Glories! I always planted Heavenly Blue Morning Glories, together with Moon Flowers, both from the Ipomoea family if i am not mistaken, One of course blooms at night and closes about the time the Heavenly Blues are opening! 🙂

  2. Considered a Numero Uno invasive over here. I pull them out whenever they appear – after taking a few photos, of course.

    Tish waking with a start, then dashing into the garden in her nightie avec camera. Now there is a picture to make one smile. In a nice way, I will add.

    ”Eh, Bert, that mad woman over the road is at it again!”

    Yes the Procrastinating Writers Club.

    A dreadful, lingering malaise,
    It dulls the senses like a blight,
    Has no regard for the writer’s plight,
    Oh where is the flash, the spark of fire,
    The itch for the keyboard, the yearning, the desire.
    The is only word I can muster,
    The definite article with no more bluster,
    Sigh … let me grab a coffee, and maybe a book?
    I’ll read my way to inspiration … let’s have a look.

    I have a book that was two years in the writing and another year in prep/and edits that since the tragic shooting of my publisher’s husband in Feb this year has seen everything put on indefinite hold. And there are a couple more that have been completed and were up for consideration this year.
    And I am sure the other authors in P’kaboo’s stable are on the same boat
    But now …
    It can sometimes be like the Wild West out here, I tell you.

    1. Spot on with the verse, Ark – and the PWC. I was wondering what was happening with your book after that terrible tragedy. Tis not a straightforward game by any means – this writing lark. Writers need thick skins – but then they probably wouldn’t be writers. Hey ho. KBO as Churchill said – keep buggering on.

  3. That transmogrification of procrastination into writer’s block frustration is definitely to be avoided! Transmogrification sounds bad enough. We are not worried about you, Tish. Transmogrification is quite a fine word, tho. Henry Miller kept long lists of words he liked written on the wall next to the typewriter.

  4. seize the time Tish even if it means not getting dressed! Irresistible blue – my grandmother grew ipomoea purpurea in her green house and early on I picked up on the transient nature of existence through the immediacy of these blooms and their bindweed cousins – we children would pinch the white blooms whilst chanting “Grandmother, Grandmother get out of bed”.

    Even so I did not learn the lessons well – been a butterfly, hoverfly and procrastinator well into old age. Hope your projects find space to live and breathe

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