THE APPLE BLOSSOM LESSON...

Meaning of the Apple Blossom: Love, Truth, Peace, Beauty, Honesty, Remembrance, and Hope of Better Things to Come

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The old apple tree at the farm was in full bloom last week. As I strolled beneath its blossom laden branches the sweet perfume of the flowers was intoxicating. The light aroma skipped on the wind enchanting my senses and lifting my soul to the heights of heaven.I sat on the earths cushion beneath the tree looking up at the soft hues of pink, white, and green against the expanse of cloudless blue sky feeling sheltered by the exquisite beauty and peacefulness being offered by its bower. Love planted this tree long ago, love of fruit, love of farming, and love of family. The tree was a gift to an avid gardener from one of her daughters. I sat remembering when the tree was but a twig and how she nurtured and cared for it year after year even though it bore no fruit. Life is like that sometimes. We hope and pray and strive towards something that seems like we are making a fruitless effort.Gardeners, in my opinion, possess one of the most beautiful attributes of God, patience. She faithfully and patiently tended the tree, staking its tender trunk enough so that it could bend with the wind and learn to be flexible but not bound so tightly that it would break in a storm. Her patient love taught her family those same lessons.

Her love and care for the twig like tree was done with the attitude of hope of better things to come. The twig strengthened into a sturdy trunk and began to branch out over time until one day little blossoms came to life and she knew her work would soon be rewarded with the sweet first born fruits.We stood side by side one warm sunny spring day inhaling the fragrant beauty of the finally full grown tree. Her hands were clasp behind her in her familiar stance as she gently rocked back on her bare heels enjoying the feel of the new grass underfoot. A wispy whistle-like hum blew across her lips into my ear, a long ago tune from her girlhood days.

The hum became words set to the tune, "...after the glory of the blossoms, comes the fruit of the apple..." I did not ask her at the time what she meant by those words, I just listened. All these years later I realize her lesson, our efforts are never fruitless, sometimes it just takes a while to see the fruit.The old tree has bloomed and produced fruit many times over the years. Savory pies, sweet jams, tasty apple sauce, and fresh apple cake have been some of the blessed benefits of her efforts at preserving the fruit.

Her simple lesson of the apple blossom floated down upon me with a shower of petals loosened by the wind, and I thought I might have heard the low whistle-hum of the enduring gardener who taught me that patient persistence will result in glorious blooms, the hope of better things to come, as I wait for the sweet fruit that follows, the remembrance of this lesson well worth preserving.

I thought you might enjoy a taste of my Granny's cake so I am sharing her recipe below:

GRANNY GREGG'S FRESH APPLE CAKE

2 Cups raw apples, peeled, cored, and sliced thin
1 Cup sugar
1 Egg, lightly beaten
1 1/2 Cups flour - sifted with 1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 Cup oil
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
2 Cups chopped pecans
1 Cup coconut flakes (optional)

Cover raw apples with sugar and let stand for 20 minutes. Add beaten egg, stir well. Add remaining ingredients, stir well. Pour into buttered pan and bake 1 hour in a preheated 350 degree oven. Store in refrigerator.

Below are a few free apple blossom images for you to save and use in your art. Enjoy!

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I hope each of you have a weekend filled with fragrant beauty!

Blessings,
Miss Sandy

A GARDEN OF LOVE...

" A garden of Love grows in a Grandmother's heart."

-Author Unknown-

Most roads we travel in life, figuratively as well as literally, either lead us to something or away from something. The road I was rambling on that day was leading me too something. It was leading me to a place where love never dies. Sounds a little like heaven doesn't it? Well, in my opinion, it is a tantalizing little taste of it here on earth.

On this days journey I noticed that the wild Red Buds were hanging heavy over the sides of the road mingling with the lime green of new birthed leaves on companion trees. While inching along under the bower of tree tops, fingertips of limbs entwined, I thought to myself, "Yes indeed, this red dirt road surely does lead to heaven."On this day, like all the other days I had traveled this road in the past two years, I tensed as we descended the last hill leading deep into the hollow. Swinging wide to making a sharp left just past the old Carl Henry place that despite having had new owners for these many years still had not one single curtain on any of the windows, I idly wondered if Carl's rockin' chair came with the sale and if it was still positioned facing the large front window so the new owners could watch the comings and goings on the lonesome road like Carl loved to do.

Fording the creek that always runs across the road while listening to the pop and crunch of tires on the loose stone surface, I anticipated the next ascent and our arrival. When we pulled to a stop, cutting off the engine, the sound of sudden silence filled the cab of the truck. The thrill of anticipation was quickly quelled with the forlorn look of the over grown lawn and unkempt garden.For one brief second I had forgotten that she was not there to greet us, no flash of red apron to indicate where she puttered while waiting for us to visit. I sat for a few silent seconds just drinking in the scene before me, noticing that we were not the first to arrive. Spring must have dashed in just ahead of us.It was when I was closing the cab door that I saw it, one bright spot of red in a field of green that was peppered with purple, yellow, and white - one single red tulip. A fuzzy wish, much like a dandelion gone to seed, briefly blew across my mind, " I wish she were here."It was quickly chased by the thought that I was lucky to have had her in my life, the grandmother that planted love in the very garden where I stood.I moved closer observing one single silken strand running from a petal of the tulip anchoring it to the surface of the earth. A silent line of connection and communication, just like love, weaved its way through my heart and threatened to pour out of my eyes. She was no longer there, but the connection would always be there, unbroken by our temporary separation. Closer still and I noticed that it was not a single silken strand but and entire intricately woven web that moored the brilliant bloom to the terrain. Kneeling in front of it I watched the ever present wind buffet the blossom noting that the delicate looking stands never broke loose. Love is like that, two parties can be divided by time, space, and distance and the chords of love will never be broken.The Wisdom Weaver had done her work well. I saw her message of love in the flower tenderly planted by her hands just like the love she tenderly planted in my heart. The meaning of tulips is generally perfect love. Like many flowers, different colors of tulips often carry their own significance. Red tulips are most strongly associated with true love. There is no truer love than that of a Grandmother or the Lord who let me see a glimpse of both in a spiders web and a single blossom.

I saw my grandmothers bright red apron reflected in the soft petals letting me know that she was just a thought away, tucked safely in my heart and memory. Yes, we were indeed divided by death, but still intertwined like the weaving of the web, loves silken strands extending from heaven to earth, our lives still touching with the invisible filament of love.Both their love and their lessons anchor me to this earth and enable me to travel most roads in life leading me to something...a place where love never dies. Sounds a little like heaven doesn't it? Well, in my opinion, one lone tulip and a spider web are tantalizing little tastes of heaven here on earth.

Today, I hope that each one of you get your very own glimpse of heaven on earth and that it lifts your spirit and makes your heart sing with joy!

Blessings,
Miss Sandy

P. S. I hope you won't get too tired of viewing nature photos here as I am still making the transition to the new studio space. I would have shared my flea market finds with you but, well, I can't find them in all the mess. I would have shared with you what I got on Etsy, but, well, I can't find the unopened package in all the mess. I might have shown you a lot of things but the massive mess I am trying to put to order is not one of them! I'll get back to the creative side of me as soon as I can. Thank you for being patient!

STOPPING TO SMELL THE ROSES...

" It is good to be alone in a garden at dawn or dark so that all its shy presences may haunt you and possess you in a reverie of suspended thought."

-James Douglas, Down Shoe Lane-

This morning I tiptoed out the back door of the Quill and caught the morning sky with a hint of a sleepy blush upon her rosy cheek...A light chill blanketed the land causing the blackberry blossoms to swaddle themselves in their petals to ward off the cool morning air...Most of the world lay sleeping before me as the camera quietly clicked away. One yellow iris decided to stretch out a petal to test the dewy day...Preferring to remain in her sleepy state until later in the morning.

The tranquil sounds of the night were fading as sweet bird melodies began to drift from the bramble where brilliant red flowers were showing off their fiery color...I noticed that last weeks tiny red velvet oak leaves have all but disappeared...Only a few remain...The wild ferns waved a shy good morning to me from their hiding places among the stones on the rocky ridge line...The first rays of the sun winked at me through the thick foliage of the old oaks in the east woods...Reaching out its fingertips to tickle the tops of the trees with its warm touch...Casting its golden smile over the dawning day. The sweet faced False Garlic, also known as Crow Poison, began to show its sleepy face...I weaved my way though a wooded trail scented with the musk of earth hoping to catch the deer arise from their slumber. I was too late. Continuing my trek through the hush of the dawning day, warmed by the memory of the sun kissed Yellow Lady Banks glowing against the stone well last evening gave me pause to stop and smell the roses one more time...Sweet scented clusters of pale yellow roses dripping, draping, and dangling their bright beauty softening the landscape of our cottage...Reminding me to savor the common everyday blessings; the sights, the sounds, the scenes, and the smells of a dew-drenched morning where the Master Gardeners footprints appear in the soft green grass of the garden. I pause beside the old stone well, just where I stood last evening admiring the handiwork of nature, and recall the words of Dr. Margaret Moore Jacobs in "Roses Every Day"..."Our earthly life is an unfolding like the opening up of the petals of a rose. Yesterday the bud was there, the petals tightly folded around the heart of the flower, like a glorious promise. Today the full-blown rose is there in all its glory, beauty, and wonderful fragrance. And tomorrow we shall find the soft velvety petals strewn on the warm earth. But the memory will be treasured on a cold winter day when there are no roses..."

A garden is a good place to be sometimes, when out daily lives get too tangled up with the

"everydayness" of living. The heart and soul, the body and mind come to rest just by looking at the living green of a garden in the springtime.I hope you have enjoyed a morning walk with me here at Quill Cottage and that your day is overflowing with the blooming beauty of heightened awareness of your everyday blessings!

Blessings,
Miss Sandy

A LAWN FULL OF LOVE...

"And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earths dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest."

-Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Sensitive Plant"-

He bounded into the house looking much like a little boy with a wide grin spread form ear to ear, a branch of dogwood blossoms clutched in his fist, his annual offering of love. My grin equaled his not because he remembered but because he looked so cute and little boyish, so happy to have caught me by surprise.It was Saturday and we discussed that the first mowing of the lawn and field needed to be done as soon as the dew lifted. No use putting it off since there would be no egg hunting here this year, no depth was needed to obscure brightly colored eggs. A little while later I heard it, the rumble and whine of the start of the mower as it roared to life and the blade began to whirl.

A mixture of sadness and gladness wove its way into my heart. I stepped into a sunbeam warming the hardwood floor and rested my head against the cool glass while gazing out into the back yard, listening. A thrill of smelling the first smell of summer, fresh cut grass, lifted my countenance but only for a moment as I pictured in my minds eye all that was being sacrificed for that simple sweet scent.Just days before I had wished aloud in his presence that the first offerings of spring could be saved and savored. Spring Beauties...Wild Violets...Bluelets...Wood Sorrel...Henbit...Just to name a few. All of these were blooming profusely around our woodland home making a colorful carpet sprigged with flowers on a field of green. With one last look of longing I returned to the task at hand still hearing the whirring whine of the rotating blade as it cropped away spring.

Much later in the day he returned with an equally boyish grin on his face insisting that he show me something. Swiping the glue from my hands onto my work apron I slipped from the studio trailing behind him as he led me out the front door and around the house, stopping me by the corner of the deck.

He stepped behind me where I felt the weight and warmth of his hands placed on my shoulders, inching me forward, pivoting me toward the back law. I felt his breath on my hair and his chin rest on my head for a brief moment. He said, "I left this for you. I know how much you love the wildflowers and I didn't touch the violets on the hillside either."

What lay before me was a lawn full of love...Spring Beauties, smiling up at the sunshine with their peppermint striped faces. The blooms were thick, and lush, and lavish just like his love. Both sight and feeling were endless. The blossoms started at my feet and stretched across the entire lawn, drifting into the woodlands around tree roots and rocks, flowing over every surface as far as they eye could see. I stood a little stunned that the man behind me, who was so meticulous about mowing, was actually going to leave all this depth and beauty just for me to enjoy.Every morning since then, with the exception of yesterday due to rain, I have stepped outside at sunrise to watch the Spring Beauties unfold their petals and lift their faces to the sun. Every evening I have returned to watch them retreat into sleep, folding their petals and bowing their heads. Every day as I have been about my business I stop and look in wonder at my lawn full of love in amazement. When did this man with nary a romantic bone in his body become so sweet and sensitive and how did I get so lucky that he picked me? Sometimes wishes do come true!

This weekend, for sure, the lawn will have to be cut but I will always remember this Spring that arose in my garden fair where the Spirit of Love was felt everywhere.

Blessings,

Miss Sandy