Peonies

April 24, 2020

Over the past few weeks I’ve been watching my peonies. While I certainly love the large pink tissue thin blooms, I am fascinated by this season of preparation. When the first buds appeared I started watching for the ants. They always come, drawn by the scent – something I can’t even smell! And as the buds get bigger and bigger more and more ants come, doing the important work of helping the blooms open – and certainly being nourished by the sweetness of these buds.

It’s an odd symbiotic relationship. Our initial response is to shoo away the ants. But if there are no ants then there are no blooms.

I’ve been thinking about the ants. I’ve been wondering about the mechanisms that are busily at work helping us to bloom once again. I’ve been thinking about all of the people who are doing everything they can to empower us to (re)open with as much grace and beauty as possible.

I’ve also been thinking about the blooms. There are always a few buds that never open. And occasionally a bud partially opens and then dies. Not all of the buds open into glorious blooms. This suggests to me that the ants choose some buds over others. Some get nurtured into full bloom and others don’t.

Maybe peonies are a poor metaphor for our current situation. On the other hand, as I watch the ants I can’t help but be thankful for the many processes that are in place to help us – however imperfect they may be. I am truly thankful for the many people who are working diligently to help us bloom once again. And as I watch the ants, I also pay close attention to the buds and grieve for those that will never bloom – for the inequities of our system – for all those who repeatedly fall through the cracks.

By mid-May my peonies will be in full bloom, reminding me of our resilience as a community. As we inevitably focus on the beautiful blossoms, I hope we won’t forget about the buds that didn’t open. Or the ants.