Last spring I planted camellias in our front flowerbeds, not fully appreciating what a blessing I was giving myself. My husband and I worked the soil, adding amendments to create the acidity needed for the new camellias and azaleas. We went to Maas Nursery, the best place in the Houston area to get camellias, and purchased one Royal Velvet (deep red), one Purple Dawn (purplish pink) and a variety I had never heard of before, Sadaharu Oh (pink and white) named after a baseball player. The Royal Velvet has opened three glorious blooms so far, the Purple Dawn is a week from blooming for the first time, but the Sadaharu Oh has proved unexpectedly prolific. Eighteen blooms have come and gone over the past month and it shows no sign of slowing down. Every time I tried to count the buds I would lose track somewhere between sixty and seventy.
I have been battling a respiratory infection this winter and without the joy my camellias have brought I don’t know how I would have made it through. But there is something about the fleeting nature of the camellia flower that makes one think of mortality and the beauty of life anyway.
These photos were taken in my garden and in my home and inspired the camellia theme for the week. In turn, I was inspired by the haikus of Matsuo Bashō and decided to try my hand at haikus. Staying traditional by keeping the 5-7-5 syllable count in three lines, I also tried to keep a sense of the jarring, unexpected nature of the content. I don’t know how successful I was, but the enjoyment I received from the mental exercise was well worth the time spent. I hope you will love them.
a bowl of petals
this fierce corolla looks up
to contain the sun
a pink and white bloom
adorns the glossy green leaves
crowned by threads of light
a bee drinks deeply
ensconced in choice filaments
briefly imprisoned
the bee roaming freely
high on nectar among petals
is distinctly small
the waxy flower
incapable of flying
makes the bee her slave
in the flower’s bell
a bee hangs like a clapper
that will never ring
after winter rain
shining with damp radiance
blooms have not fallen
a fragile wax bloom
pours out its captured water
cup overflowing
flower petals moist
textured like a infant’s skin
lasting only days
in winter’s darkness
the camellia flowers
bring back the sunlight
blossom beneath leaves
out of reach of wind and rain
afraid of falling
a fallen flower
vibrant colors bathed in tears
is already dead
cradled on pine straw
the flower’s lifeless body
collects dewy tears
like a fallen star
gracing my simple table
bringing nature home
remaining lovely
in a dish splashed with water
bloom cut off from life
like a frilly dress
layers exposed for all eyes
she remains empty
moisture is fickle
too much and the bloom will rot
too little she wilts
each bloom so unique
drops in her time from the plant
nature is wasteful
a fleeting flower
dropping helplessly to earth
evokes our own death
a flower lingers
uncoupled from life and dead
may we do the same
