Saturday morning, I stole a few minutes to amble through my garden, and I was struck by the purity and simplicity of the billowing white, hardy hibiscus plants that are blooming all around my yard now. I was reminded of the Simon and Garfunkel Song:

The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)

Lyrics:

Slow down, you move too fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feelin’ groovy
Ba da da da da da da, feelin’ groovy

Hello, lamppost, what’cha knowin’?
I’ve come to watch your flowers growin’
Ain’t’cha got no rhymes for me?
Doot-in doo-doo, feelin’ groovy
Ba da da da da da da, feelin’ groovy

I got no deeds to do
No promises to keep
I’m dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me
Life, I love you
All is groovy

I wanted to capture the  moment and although my efforts to do so have failed before, I clipped a couple of hibiscus blossoms and brought them inside to paint them, but before I got into my studio, the flowers had begun to wilt.

Jacki Kellum Watercolor – White, Withered Hibiscus

Jacki Kellum Watercolor – White, Withered Hibiscus 2

My garden hibiscus is a reminder that we cannot freeze time.

And the Seasons, They Go Round and Round
And the Painted Ponies Go Up and Down
We’re Riding on a Carousel of Time – Joni Mitchell, The Circle Game

When I first heard Joni Mitchell’s Circle Game song, I was turning twenty, and frankly, I am glad that I didn’t realize then how much I would change over the next several years. The greatest of life’s games is that while we are young, we don’t realize how precious the moments and the opportunities of youth actually are and when we are young, we fall for the unfortunate myth that we will be young forever. But we are like the hibiscus plants in my garden. By the time that we have bloomed, we have begun the process of fading and withering.

One of life’s greatest disappointments lies within discovering that Time itself is an illusion and that living can be like chasing after a mirage. We waste much of our lives looking too far ahead at something that seems to be golden and grand, but when we get there, that golden somethingness isn’t there at all. What we had seen and chased was merely a shiny reflection in the sand, and while we were chasing the mirage, we grew older. Because everything that blossoms eventually dies, it is essential that we find ways to fully live during our precious moments on earth. We need to live each day and we need to avoid chasing that something which is just beyond our grasps.

I don’t want to pretend that art and writing are more than they actually are, but in the almost final analysis, I can honestly say that my ability to create is the way that I begin to make sense of life’s Circle Game and the way that I have managed to slow my own aging process down and have found ways to celebrate the life around me–everyday.
“What was any art but a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining elusive element which is life itself – life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose.” – Willa Cather

This has been an odd summer. Perhaps it is more of my advancing age speaking, but I have sensed autumn during much of this past summer. Even today, it is cloudy and the air promises rain. I am reminded of a little poem that I wrote one October. I hope to illustrate this as a picture book:

Capture

Winter Comes Too Soon
A Picture Book Manuscript by Jacki Kellum

There’s a frenzy in my garden,
Squirrels can’t get enough.
Birds are looking frantically
For seeds and nuts and stuff.

The corn is dry and shriveled now,
A vine has reached the top.
Fading leaves are bending low,
And little pumpkins drop.

The monarchs moved to Mexico,
And geese are leaving, too.
The spider leaves a lacy web,
Her net is etched with dew.

Shadows creep across the lawn,
Beneath the big, bright moon.
Everything in my yard knows
That winter comes too soon.

Copyright Winter Comes Too Soon Jacki Kellum October 8, 2015

In summary, life is a luxury.

Slow down, you move too fast. You gotta make your morning last. . . .
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me
Life, I love you
All is groovy

©Jacki Kellum August 7, 2017

Amble