My grandmother had flower beds all the way around the brick ranch house that she and my grandfather moved into in 1955. Every Saturday, while mother went grocery shopping, we kids stayed at Nonnie's, and she gave us a tour around her flower bed. Very boring for this teenager, but I now take pleasure in what pleased her. One of her unusual specimens was 3 alliums that bloomed with a big purple ball on a three-foot-tall bare stalk.
My purple allium balls are blooming this week—very eye-catching as they stand naked above everything else that's going on in the flower bed.
The tall things, the big things get our attention in life because they are so remarkable and give us so much pleasure.
Can we continue to pay attention as the remarkable thing fades and becomes ugly? Can we notice that all things are impermanent? My grandmother's garden—long gone.
Allium comes, and allium goes. And so do we.