One . . .
By Barbara Falconer Newhall
It’s done. Those blood-red snapdragons are gone from our front yard, and my rock garden is the better for it.
But what do I do with the blossoms? I’d take them to my 92-year-old mother – except she doesn’t like maroon any more than I do.
I can’t just toss them in the compost bin. They are trying so hard to live, to be the velvety, deeply colored snapdragons they were born to be.
. . . two . . .
I take pity and invite them into the house for their final days.
I look around for a vase. I try one, then another. Then another. Nothing works. On the fourth try, the blossoms and stems arrange themselves artfully in a glass vase.
Jackie O used to say that a woman can’t be too rich or too thin. I say a woman can’t be too rich, too thin, or have too many vases.
. . . three . . .
© 2009 Barbara Falconer Newhall
Photos © 2009 B.F. Newhall
. . . four. This works for me.
