Fruition

The roses are almost done here, the last of the blooms waning. This was in October when the flower became full and fragrant and caught my eye after a rain. The bush sits there, at the end of the drive, often overlooked but not on this day.This is how I wished I felt right now ... full and drenched in possibility.



And then there is this, this image. The trees at the park down the street, full of fruit not yet ripe. The crop will be ready in another month and the orchard will open for picking, bags and bags of citrus to be had. This is what I am right now, hanging out, full only of possibility and waiting for that day, that time when something comes to fruition.

It has been a frustrating few months. In truth, it feels like it has been a frustrating year. A year of catching my breath. Of remembering to breath. A year derailed in so many ways. I want to look at it and think I loved some parts of it. I know I did. But I also just want it to finish up and scoot out the door.

But that fruit ... I keep thinking about those unripe oranges. I want to believe that is what I am right now, all the potential for change and sweetness right there, just waiting for the right time to come ripe.