Prune Petal Ponderings

I stood outside and watched the thunderstorm come closer.  The sky to the west got darker.  Lines of rain streaked down to the horizon.  The air been to smell a little different.  The wind began to pick up.  A couple hawks came near and began to play on the edges of the current proceeding the storm.  When the rain began, a drop fell here and there, the kids took it as the signal that their shift was over and headed inside for an activity of their choice.  I stood lingering still, unafraid of rain drops.  I wanted to see what would happen to the sky.

The kitties stayed too, one under the weeping cherry tree, one under the van, and one running from one side of the driveway to the other, excited about the weather change.  Then white petals from the Italian Prune tree started billowing east, like gentle snow, landing in the driveway, right before resting CeCe, the cat. She sprang from behind a fender and started play leaping at the swirling spots of white.  The other cats quickly joined her, delighted with the simple pleasure of pouncing on petals.

I so enjoyed the petals when they formed flowers in full bloom.  And I know that in late summer their juicy fruit will delight the whole family.  But I did not know to be thankful also when the petals fell. 

Rain then poured hard, watering the Sweet Alyssum seeds scattered by the garden path, the kitties dashed to sheltered places, and I went inside to watch the storm through the window, and fold a pile of laundry, full of thanks to God for petals of all stages.