>Honeysuckle

>The journaling reflections I regularly (if not daily) record are saved on my computer under a file called “Honeysuckle,” for the honeysuckle plant outside my office window.

There are two windows in my office: a double set on what is roughly the west side (which is behind me when I sit at the computer) and a single window on what is roughly the south side (which is on my right when I type). The double set behind me is at the front of the house and I often keep those shades down, but the shade on the window at my right is nearly always open because I want to see the honeysuckle when I work.

When I struggle for the right word, I turn my head and look at the honeysuckle while seeking inspiration. I especially love that ancient bush this time of year when the woody stems burst into green leaves and pink flowers. When temperatures are mild, I open the window and inhale the fragrance.

But I can’t even see the honeysuckle today. It suffered a severe pruning experience on Saturday when my husband was cutting down the dying evergreen at that corner of our house. I must walk to the window and look down if I want to see the honeysuckle’s few green-leafed stems and the two remaining pink blossoms.

I hope that it will grow into view again some day. And I’m sure there’s a moral in this story, but I don’t have the heart to explore it today.

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