We had those couple of days back in late December (or was it early January) where the nights got below freezing, and as usual the bougainvillea took the worst of beatings. I took this picture last week and find it somewhat appealing to my Anglo-Catholic senses – there’s a sense of loss, a sense of sadness at seeing the once full, vibrant branches all green and awash with red flowers now dead and gray that seems almost comforting. Fact is, we’re not mean to spend all our days in “full bloom” – our bodies age, our emotions swing between the ecstacy and agony in the passage of time and our own imperfect natures, and our situations are never quite as assured and comfortable as they seem. The Anglophile in me (or is it my New England or Newfie heritage, or both) tells me that, no matter how good things might seem at the present they are never quite as comfortable and assured as they seem. Disaster is always around the corner.

And that’s OK – that’s life.

In a few weeks Carmelo will come by and give the bougainvillea a good shave; it’s good for their overall health. And come late March early April they will start coming back. As the bushes grow long and thick once again it won’t be long before Carmelo personally oversees the creation of the archway created by the natural outgrowth of both bushes towards each other that creates a peaceful and almost grotto-like appearance. Everyone on the street knows there’s an open invitation to sit on the bench and enjoy the prayer grove for prayer, meditation, or simply enjoying the beauty of God’s creation. I know a couple of folks have used it from time to time, which is really cool.