why the last - clematis
the last clematis bloom on this vine before next season
You know, the more I think about it the more I can start to see how my mind begins its slow sojourn towards winter depression. It starts with the means I communicate to myself during the fall. What I mean is my thinking process. For example these images of Clematis, above and below. This Clematis bloom on this vine is probably the last bloom it will have this season. When I saw it there reaching up over the gargoyle on our back deck my initial reaction was – oh the last bloom of the year. When I see the roses, I think the last roses of summer. I start to preface my thoughts with “the last” of what ever may still be blooming in our garden. So, with everything I see in our garden being framed in “the last”, I realize that I’m already planting the seeds of depression. The last of anything is a depressing thought. Think about it yourself for a minute - the last whale, the last bird, the last flower; it is all too depressing isn’t it.
Now, I’ve never been one to think much of the power of positive thinking. To me that concept is a lot like wearing a clowns costume, you can paint on a happy face and adhere a big red nose on the face of it, but it doesn’t change the facts. You can put someone in a fancy ornate coffin but they are still dead. Sometimes I think positive thinking has away of making some people half full of the glass they are drinking from. You see this all the time in the most bizarre ways: when the old woman is hit on the way to doing groceries, you can’t spin it happy by saying “Oh well, now she doesn’t have to get the groceries.” Here’s one for you: he was a ruthless dictator but a benevolent one – you can’t be a benevolent dictator.”
At the risk of sounding like a real sap, maybe I should just paradigm shift my perspective of things when fall comes. It’s not the last Clematis bloom just the last one before the new ones. The ones that are coming after the frick’n freezing, ice, and snow, sometime close to eight months from now. Alternatively, these are the final blooms before the radiant fall foliage, just before the leaves blow off the trees and the branches pray to heaven for the sun to return.
See I’m feeling little better already. I lied.
Someone help me spin this in a healthier light than my dismal view please! Help get “the last” out of my lexicon.
Now, I’ve never been one to think much of the power of positive thinking. To me that concept is a lot like wearing a clowns costume, you can paint on a happy face and adhere a big red nose on the face of it, but it doesn’t change the facts. You can put someone in a fancy ornate coffin but they are still dead. Sometimes I think positive thinking has away of making some people half full of the glass they are drinking from. You see this all the time in the most bizarre ways: when the old woman is hit on the way to doing groceries, you can’t spin it happy by saying “Oh well, now she doesn’t have to get the groceries.” Here’s one for you: he was a ruthless dictator but a benevolent one – you can’t be a benevolent dictator.”
At the risk of sounding like a real sap, maybe I should just paradigm shift my perspective of things when fall comes. It’s not the last Clematis bloom just the last one before the new ones. The ones that are coming after the frick’n freezing, ice, and snow, sometime close to eight months from now. Alternatively, these are the final blooms before the radiant fall foliage, just before the leaves blow off the trees and the branches pray to heaven for the sun to return.
See I’m feeling little better already. I lied.
Someone help me spin this in a healthier light than my dismal view please! Help get “the last” out of my lexicon.
detail from one of our last clematis blooms GP
posted by Gerard Pas at 10:48 p.m.
1 Comments:
I''m familiar with this subject too
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