Every morning I walk out my front door and walk to the bus stop, I walk alongside a ton of green and usually in a lot of fog being so close to the ocean. And I love it.
There are two things I really enjoy about this walk (even though some mornings I’m really tired and dread having to run a block or two to catch the bus on time). The first is this bush of jasmines that’s on the block before I catch the bus. Jasmines have been my favorite flower since forever — my mom used to “secretly” pick a jasmine from the outdoors section of Home Depot whenever she had to drag me there when I was little so that I could carry around it and smell it while I walked around with her. It’s a small, simple joy with a light fragrance I love getting a whiff of whenever I’m out walking.
The other thing I enjoy is seeing the “flowers” pictured above all along the sidewalks on my morning walk. I don’t actually know what they’re called, and they might actually just be considered weeds, but to me they aren’t weeds. They are “presents” I used to “give” to my grandma. By “giving”, I mean placing on my grandma’s grave. Growing up, we took regular trips to the cemetery (which was over an hour away from the house I grew up in, but is now just a couple cities away from where I live now) to pay respect to my mom’s mom. As a little girl, on the walk from where we parked to where my grandma was buried, I would pick these “flowers” along the way since they grew everywhere. I would try to find the biggest or “most bloomed” looking one or two and once we got to her grave, I would place the stems carefully in the engraved hands of Mother Mary on her stone — the stems fit perfectly into the engraved lines and I loved that. It was my way of giving my grandma (who was only alive until I was 1 year old) flowers just like my mom, who would buy a bouquet of roses on the way, except I would pick my own “bouquet” because I couldn’t buy flowers since I was only a little girl.
It’s nice to be able to find beauty in such small, simple things, and especially things that others probably wouldn’t think twice about.
Thinking about whether these are flowers or weeds doesn’t matter — what matters is that I consider them gifts most of all. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. It also makes me think about this sketch that I did earlier this year in my 642 Things To Draw sketchbook (which I really need to pick up and finish at some point)!