No Provenance

Mrs Trellis remarked how well my old fashioned rose in the front garden was doing this morning as I was dead heading it.I told her its name ( Ice Cream) and said it has  a fragrance to it that reminds me of when I was a boy at home and she took the time to sink her nose into the nearest bloom and inhaled deeply

“ lovely !” She said then asked, pointing to an emerging bloom nearby

“What’s the little yellow rose called? “ 

I checked and smiled when I saw it

“ That’s a new rose, a gift from a friend,” I replied, it’s called Winnie” 

And indeed it has a species name of Golden Winnie and was a kind gift from my friend Colin after the old girl had died.

This was its first flowering

“Flowers like this one should have a plaque saying just how important they are” Mrs Trellis mused “ The next tenant of your cottage will look after it accordingly “

She looked thoughtful 

So many things we keep have the  same personal resonance. A drawn postcard of me dog walking from a friend, a hand made hand painted cheese board, a crocheted blanket, a Spanish lamp, a framed piece of an OS map, a rainbow heart….things without formal provenance… 

….just things……

We talked about this for a while,  and Mrs Trellis said and laughed that she was being overly philosophical today.

She pointed to a poppy head, in the flower bed near to my  front door

“What does any of this stuff really matter? Look at the poppy, beautiful and delicate and it will gone tomorrow” 

I looked at the poppy

And realised she was right.

from Going Gently https://ift.tt/3hRBOhk