I really do love the Taurus time of year.
Once, on a special day in Taurus time, a friend came over to paint with me in my studio. (The arts are a favorite Taurus pastime!)
She was kind enough to bring some flowers she had just cut from her garden, which she arranged in an orange glass vase she had brought, alternating two sprigs of old fashioned lilacs with three orange tulips and three cuttings of bleeding hearts. She put the flowers on the dining room table, where we enjoyed their colors and rich scents with our lunch later in the day.
That evening, a cold that had been coming on reached full bloom, and by the next day it had blunted my sense of smell so much that it denied me any pleasure from the flowers' perfumes. It also kept me housebound several days, longing to be outside in fresh air and sunshine. So the flowers became my little link to nature, keeping me company three times daily when we sat down to eat and cheering me with every pass by the dining room.
Taurus is a zodiac sign that helps us really appreciate beauty. Especially what's lovely about the earth: flowers, grass, trees, a breeze…
When the cold came on, lacking the ability to smell most things gave me an opportunity to savor the flowers' visual beauty. A very Taurus thing!
The lilacs' dark green leaves showcased the flowers' delicate, powdery, pale purple color. Over a few days, they reminded me of their brief bloom time—even when left on the bush—as they began to droop and turn a more intense and dark shade of purple in a final show of color before they eventually dry up and fall off the branches.
The tulips, meanwhile, came into their own, morphing from a modest cup shape into a freeform structure as their petals pushed outward and flattened more each day.
That change revealed their vibrant yellow centers containing six black stamens surrounding a pale yellow pistil. It also showed off the petals, which were not a uniform orange but a swirly, watercolor blend of yellow, orange, and red marked here and there with bold pen-and-ink strokes of deep green.
As the petals freed themselves and stretched out, their jagged, feather-like edges became much more visible, in keeping with their ongoing liberation.
The long branches of bleeding hearts continued to drape quietly, apparently unchanging next to their more dramatic sisters. Spiky medium green leaves contrasted with the softly rounded pink hearts that bleed white drops.
Their peacefulness and the obvious symbolism of their shape made it easier to endure my forced time indoors by inspiring uplifting thoughts. They also comforted me while thinking about a friend who died five years ago today…remembering his sideways sense of humor, endlessly loving heart, and fondness for cigars.
One day, as always happens with a cold, some of my sense of smell returned, just in time to enjoy the lilacs and tulips before their scents disappeared.
Although my spirit felt grateful for this unexpected gift of fading spring pleasure, the unscented little hearts touched me far more deeply, fueling meditations about the human heart and its miraculous resilience. My heart felt full, stout and strong enough to hold memories of friends now gone and mingle them with thoughts of so many friends who continue to enrich my life.
See my other articles about Taurus:
