On my first day in Villa Obregon this year, I took Jiggs for a walk on the street where I live. (As far as I know, neither Lerner nor Lowe were there.)
Everything was new. And seemed a bit exotic to me.
But I still remember this bougainvillea bush -- just four doors down from my house.
It was hardly the biggest bougainvillea that I have seen. Nor were the colors unusual.
But there was something about the way it had been trained to arch over the sidewalk and the three different color of flowers that perfectly complemented one another. Someone had given a good deal of love to this bush.
For almost five months I have meant to post something about it.
And today is the day. As Jiggs and I were walking along, each a bit dazed by the heat, I failed to pay attention to one important fact.
Though I will never be picked first in the selection of basketball teams, I must be a bit taller than the people who usually walk under this flowering arch. Because I was suddenly reminded of a simple botanical fact.
The bougainvillea has beautiful flowers. But like many things of beauty, it comes armed. In this case with nasty long thorns.
If I had been walking a bit faster, I could have completed the first step in successful brain surgery. As it was, I simply got a nice little gash.
And it was a fair exchange. Where else in life can you get five months of unalloyed pleasure for a brief pang?
Everything was new. And seemed a bit exotic to me.
But I still remember this bougainvillea bush -- just four doors down from my house.
It was hardly the biggest bougainvillea that I have seen. Nor were the colors unusual.
But there was something about the way it had been trained to arch over the sidewalk and the three different color of flowers that perfectly complemented one another. Someone had given a good deal of love to this bush.
For almost five months I have meant to post something about it.
And today is the day. As Jiggs and I were walking along, each a bit dazed by the heat, I failed to pay attention to one important fact.
Though I will never be picked first in the selection of basketball teams, I must be a bit taller than the people who usually walk under this flowering arch. Because I was suddenly reminded of a simple botanical fact.
The bougainvillea has beautiful flowers. But like many things of beauty, it comes armed. In this case with nasty long thorns.
If I had been walking a bit faster, I could have completed the first step in successful brain surgery. As it was, I simply got a nice little gash.
And it was a fair exchange. Where else in life can you get five months of unalloyed pleasure for a brief pang?
I have always admired their beauty, never realized they were armed. Thanks for the insight.
ReplyDeleteSaludos,
Francisco
Dazed by the heat OR five months of unalloyed pleasure.
ReplyDeleteWhich is it, señor? Can´t be both.
Dazed and Pleasure are not mutually exclusive.
ReplyDeleteMaybe it's alloyed pleasure....but, pleasure all the same.
Dazed and pleasure often stroll hand in hand, but the unalloyed word in this case threw the matter into other territory.
ReplyDeleteGo forth and be pleasured, alloyed or otherwise.
It is a beautiful bush. The sidewalk looks narrow. Next time you will have to duck when you venture under it. I hope your gash is not deep.
ReplyDeleteMom
Little squirt bottle of Round Up will take care of it if you feel spiteful....
ReplyDeleteJust kidding!
Was it Shelley who wrote: "I fall upon the thorns of life, I bleed," or something close to it?
ReplyDeleteYou, however, have chosen to bump into bumptious bougainvillea.
A. N. Moose
That bogie is a beauty. Sorry about your little gash. A few months ago we planted 4 bushes, hopefully they will do well. Regards to the big "J."
ReplyDeleteFrancisco -- Now we both know. It was a bit of an eye opener for me.
ReplyDeleteFelipe -- This is another example of my compartmentalization of life experiences. The unalloyed pleasure was the beauty of those flowers. The reality of the thorn does not change that quality. You now see why I remain single.
DanaJ -- Another possibility.
Mom -- As John Wayne would say: "Just a flesh wound."
Constantino -- The quality of mercy is not strained. (I think he has been dead long enough to avoid an accusation of Bidenism.)
ANM -- Ode to the West Wind if Mrs. Metz's junior English class does not fail me.
Gloria -- And I hope you are feeling better on this Labor Day.
I dont recall John Wayne saying "it's just a flesh wound" I do however remember hearing it in Monty Python's Search for the Holy Grail. Anywho. Keith does battle with our lovley Bougianvillea's, which we have about a dozen of. It's a love hate rleationship. I love them, he hates them. The prick has a tendency to fester. Peroxide seems to curb it.
ReplyDeleteChrissy -- I put some antiseptic ointment on it. No fester -- yet. Wasn't he on Gunsmoke?
ReplyDeleteAnd now you know why Mexicans plant this along their fences and property lines. I think the beauty of it is just an added bonus. Better than barb wire in most cases!
ReplyDeleteIslagringo -- As barbed wire, they are effective. Many of the English hedgerows are made of thorned shrubs. But none quite so pretty.
ReplyDelete