Sometimes it’s the simplest things in life that fill you with incredible joy.  This is my first house, and so, my first yard and garden. Over the fall and winter it’s been filled with mysterious unknown plants.  I’m not very horticulturally minded, I had no idea what most things growing in the garden are by looking at stems and leaves. But this spring, big fat buds starting forming on a few bushy plants, and I recognized one of my favorites from my childhood garden… peonies. Did I dare hope they could be the same rich vibrant red of the peonies in my childhood garden. So rare to see peonies in that colour. Peonies so commonly pink. I would be lucky if they came up white, my second favorite choice… red, too much to dream for. Then the little crimson tips started to form on the buds. I was so sure I was getting red peonies. I called my mother to tell her how happy my favorite blooms in my childhood garden were about to bloom in my own. Well, she said, they could be pink. She reminded me she has both the red and the pink peonies in her garden and all the buds start with that red tip, that I won’t know until they open.  I watched them for a couple of days, nervous. I was so certain that the peonies in my garden had to be red. Then didn’t look for a couple of days. Silly, nerves, over peonies. Yesterday, Wolfe came in behind me, and reaching around presented me with a large rich deep crimson red bloom. The same colour, exactly, from when I was a little girl. That rush of excitement and wonder at this lush heavy red flower, and pure joy. Something so simple, flooding me with heat and happiness…. my peonies are crimson.

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