From a Little Garden with Love

A sunny and windy morning after an unusually cold night. On our street, I saw a little boy with a big backpack walking towards the school, wearing a pair of shorts, a thick jacket and, most noticeably, a black mask. Symbol of an era.

The first blossom of the bleeding heart has just emerged. Next to the more flamboyant tulips and columbines, hiding between its flourish leaves, the small pink flowers were almost invisible from a distance. Yet, this is the blossom I had been waiting for.

One morning around the same time last year, after the initial chaotic and anxious period of the covid outbreak, I decided, for no obvious reason, to take a pause from whatever I was doing and take a walk around the yard. Amid the overgrown weeds and the invasive lily of the valley, I spotted a new flower of the bleeding heart. The flower, although tiny in size, struck me at that moment. I thought about the possibility of revamping the entire yard, but I didn't start until a few weeks later when a friend brought me a pot of black-eyed Susans that she just dug out from her backyard.

A year has gone by, too quickly -- or too slowly -- all depending on your state of mind.