“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”
~ T.S. Eliot
I’m thinking much about endings and beginnings these days and as I browsed through photographs this morning the images reflected those musings.
A clematis grows near my front door. It’s not a favourite in my garden and, in fact, I came very close to asking Gerry to dig it out in the spring. Then it started growing, I became captivated by its charm, and decided to leave it for another year.
It’s a loud plant. The flowers are too something for my liking and it grows tall and unruly, falling regularly from the trellis it climbs. I suppose I could be more diligent about tending to it and training the growing tendrils to go where they should but, frankly, I’d rather spend my time tending my vegetable garden.
It has passed its prime just now and bows not-so-gracefully near my front door. A few flowers remain but they are fading and I’m contemplating, again, whether or not to dig it out and leave it.
The other morning, early and still in my pajamas, I stepped outside and captured a few images of flowers, now done, and buds still forming. These quieter beginnings and endings are ever so much more charming to me than the garish vine in full bloom.
So, we’ll see what becomes of this troublesome clematis. I’m not yet sure. (Maybe my garden guru sister, Ruth, will weigh in with her thoughts. 🙂 )