It may seem terrible to force a beautiful flower to share a picture with the ugly rust of this chain-link fence. But, I suppose that juxtaposition is the point.
There’s just something I like about the “enduring” yet corroded steel fence side-by-side with the “temporary” flower. The fence has been there year in and year out for a long time – and shows its age. The flower may come and go – but another flower and another and another will be right back. Organic life vs. mineral endurance. Fragile, vulnerable beauty – next to indifferent, yet scarred steel.
Our hearts are a little bit of both, I guess. They are (or can be 8^) very beautiful like the flower, and yet will last far longer than any one flower. We may endure longer than many fences, and yet we feel the pains that scar us far more than any fence ever could. And our hearts scar in ways that may show…yet not so obviously.
Then too, we talk disparagingly about walls and fences as being harmful boundaries that keep people apart. But if not for healthy boundaries – like Mr. Frost’s “good fences” – we can easily allow ourselves to be run over by other people. And run them over, ourselves. We know when we’re stepping on a flower. But without boundaries, we may never know until too late how badly we hurt someone else. While it’s true that some people don’t care – many of us just aren’t aware of the harm we can do.
Good boundaries help make good strong relationships. Weak boundaries can make for strong enemies.
And – in such close proximity to civilization – these flowers likely would never have lasted as long as they have without the protection of this fence’s ugly, rusty mug.
(This is the same fence where I took my “chain-link cameo” picture of a butterfly. And if anyone knows what type of flower this is, please let me know. It’s one of my favorites.)