The summer’s drought, like a merciless thief, stole life from three flats of marigolds enhancing the front of my home. Each dusky plant drew sorrow as I plucked it up, examined its withered roots, then tossed it into the waste barrel. To no avail was watering, fertilizing, pruning, and praying. Powerless to effect change, I let them go. The heat continued …

Then I went on vacation, leaving my scorched grass and derelict flower beds to whatever ….

It rained, several times, so the Boston Globe reported.

In my absence, new greening blanketed my lawn. Ten marigold plants – yellows, oranges, and golds – had survived the summer-long thievery. With more rain, they continue trumpeting their glory to the warming sun. The thief is long gone and I can breathe again.

So in letting go, new life happens, a lesson I repeatedly have to learn.

front flower bed