The Last Pepper

So sad it is to say goodbye to the flowers and plants that provided such glorious beauty from spring into the fall season. Hours of fertilizing, watering, pruning and all of the TLC this gardener provided for his leafy friends solidified the bond between the two of us. And today I finalized my farewells tucking in some as they begin their winter slumber to awaken in the spring while offering final rites to the annuals as I placed them on the compost heap. All of them served me well.

The roses, daffodils, lilies, Black eyed Susans and other perennials will return next spring. But now they leave behind a barren space. There will be no daily enjoyment of seeing new buds and blooms.  I’ll miss them and will look forward to spring when they awaken to sprout, leaf, bud and flower.

My annuals have been stubborn about leaving. Many of them have refused to die. They have somehow weathered a few below freezing nights. They have outlived their expected lifespan.  Although they are not as hearty, or as brightly arrayed in their color coat they continue to hold a semblance of beauty.

One small hibiscus has continued to cling to life. In her prime she produced the largest most beautiful flowers I’ve ever had a hibiscus to provide. This, her last offspring is dwarfed and I might even say deformed compared to her other children. But it has been tough hanging on to the very last. She was a good mother.

My beautiful pink clematis has been brought inside. She is going on four years old. I keep her in the corner of the garage during the winter. About February her stems will begin growing, reaching out to grab whatever they can find to latch on to. It seems that she has eyes as last year those stems grew up and over some two feet to find the spokes of my bicycle that was hanging on the wall. These flowers have continued to maintain their beauty despite the fact that I removed their source of life four days ago.

These mums were casualties of the first freeze. They were not as tough as the pansies. I think pansies were misnamed. They don’t give up. They stand strong against the harsh cold fall nights. The pansy digs in and says, “Give me everything you’ve got! I can take it!” Most of these cute little fellows will overcome North Carolina’s winter, and come back in the spring.

The flowering trees lost their flowers a couple of months ago, but this Japanese Maple’s fall leaves  are as pretty as any of those flowering trees.

Finally, my last pepper. I planted six pepper plants, two jalapenos, two green bells, and two  red bells. One jalapeno produced enough peppers for us to have for a soup that Sherri makes. They will  probably last all winter. The other jalapeno didn’t produce one pepper. The same was true of the green bells. One produced the other one very little. The red bells were late. They finally started producing three weeks ago, one more than the other.

People are a lot like flowers, and plants and peppers. We were created to produce, to produce life, produce beauty in the world , and produce the fruit for which God made us. We must try our best to produce what we are expected to produce at exactly the time we are supposed to produce it. We are to be strong in spirit. We are to cherish life, endure the harshness that the world throws at us, and hang on until the very end remaining as lovely as we possibly can.

I want to be like the pansy. I want to remain strong and maintain a beautiful countenance. I want to be tough, not falling under the harsh treatment of the world, or the expectations and unreasonable demands of others. I want to hang onto every moment of life God gives me, and be productive as I work within my calling.