When a Flower Follows

Both of my grandmothers had a magic touch with flowers,

but my Grandmother Annie grew more flowers than just about anyone I had ever seen.

She tended colorful flowers planted around the foundation of her house

and in a huge garden that swept across the backyard.

One day she was showing my mom her flowers as I tagged along.

Mom saw a cheery little flower growing along the shady side of the house

and asked what it was.  My grandmother reached down

 and pushed a larger leaf aside and said, "That's a sultana."

I liked the sound of the name sultana so I looked.

It's strange, but at the moment I felt connected to that little flower,

commonly known as impatiens today.

Decades after that stroll through my grandmother's flowers,

 I planted some impatiens in window boxes on the front porch railings of my house.

Some time later, I was astonished to see an impatiens flowering among the shrubs below.

How did that get there, I wondered.

Soon, another impatiens bloomed around the shrubs, then another.

By that time, I figured the impatiens must be re-seeding themselves, but how?

Then one day while I was picking spent leaves off of the plants,

 a sudden volley of sticky seeds popped against my stomach.

One of the fat green pods growing under the blossoms had burst open.

Mystery solved.

I have planted impatiens wherever I have lived for over twenty-five years.

And they always return to me each spring.

Here are some of my volunteers this year:

 

These little gems are the most tenacious flower I've ever seen.

They seem to appear out of nowhere. 

I have found them growing out of the siding, in drain trays,

and in the soft, spongey wood of old flower boxes.

Here's one that grew between the foundation and a concrete walk :

I read once that what we want in life has been following us all along,

waiting for us to notice its presence.

I think that's true:

the best things in life are those that come without our first seeking them.

Lovely little surprises, these.

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