The Farmers Market means many things. Fresh grown vegetables and fruit.

Grass raised chicken. Freshly made whole wheat bread and rolls.

The sounds of a violin playing.

People mingling.

Talking. Laughing.

Yes, so many things.

But above all of these

   I enjoy all the flowers.

     Hanging baskets.

         Freshly cut flowers.

As I walked around a corner of our local market

  Purples and whites met my eyes.

    We walked over all the while scanning the delightful arrangements.

When you can’t choose to take everything

     The choice is hard.

But the bright, cheerful phlox caught my attention.

Many years ago we had a cottage in Camptown

   where our family spent many a weekend.

Behind the cottage there were gardens.

Rows and rows of flowers.

I remember walking the paths and savoring the sweet smells.

Of all the flowers

  the deep pink phlox remain in my memories.

Later

   when we left that place

     my folks dug up some of the phlox.

        Then when we moved south to Virginia

               those same phlox flowers came with us.

Today they still bloom year after year bringing such happiness.

“I’ll take some purple and white phlox.

      I told the kind lady from Wollam Gardens.

She carefully wrapped them up in orange tissue paper

    including packets of Chrysal.

“Put a little of that in the water and you’ll have blooming phlox for days.”

How delightful.

So when we came home I got out a special deep blue vase,

   added water and along with some Chrysal

     and then placed in each phlox.

Beautiful, I thought, stepping back to look at them.

Another gift.

A shining moment.

In the midst of a hot summer season

 these bright flowers add a touch of grace to the whole room.

Memories of yesterday

     gifts of God’s grace

         and pleasures for today.

How gracious of God

    To weave our todays with golden threads from the past.

Always reminding us

 Yes, constantly whispering His Forever Love in a language that we will recognize

     is His,