In June, as many as a dozen species
may burst their buds on a single day.
By 1890, San Antonio, Texas, was a thriving trade center with population of 38,000.
In 1891 a group of citizens decided to honor the heroes
of the Alamo and Battle of San Jacinto with a Battle of Flowers.
The first parade had horse-drawn carriages, bicycles decorated with fresh flowers
and floats carrying children dressed as flowers.
The Belknap Rifles represented the military.
The participants pelted each other with blossoms.
Today it’s the largest parade in Fiesta and is second in size nationally
only to the Tournament of Roses Parade.
It’s fiesta time again in yard too!
Whenever I look out the windows, especially this time of year,
I think of these hispanic fiestas which are always so very colorful.
So I hope you enjoy this frenzy of oranges, reds, pinks,
yellows, blues, whites, and purples.
I don’t often post two entries in one day, but it’s getting awfully hot here
and some of my pretty blossoms don’t last too long in the heat.
This is what the Lord says to me: “I will remain quiet and will look on from my dwelling place, like shimmering heat in the sunshine, like a cloud of dew in the heat of harvest.” ~Isaiah 18:4 ✝
A voice beneath the surface
Echoes into my
Strength to arise
We are more than what people see on the surface. We are narratives, stories that make us who and what we are. And the stories are ripe with sorrows and joys, defeats and victories, love and loss, suffering and wellness–all those things each of us must face in life. And like my friend, Virginia, says “when you shed light on your past and how it affected you, it illustrates the transition that occurred to mold you into the person you are today.” So here I go with the next installment in my little story.
After being stuck in limbo the first semester of my sophomore year, I eventually found the strength to rise, albeit on wobbly and unsure legs at times, and I began the “lone assent of self” back into the mainstream of life. It was the summer of ‘62 and I had decided to continue working half a day for the Dean of Women as well as get a couple of courses out of the way in summer school. Since I only worked in the afternoons, I had some time on my hands after my morning classes were over, and what better place to go than the student center where food and friends awaited a hungry “climber.” The living was easy that summer and life was good. I had met some new friends who were teaching me to play bridge. And soon Keith, Danny, and I were playing bridge well enough to play in competition, and that summer would become one of the most memorable ones of my life.
…weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning. ~Psalm 30:5 ✝
**Image of old French, 1902 calendar page via Pinterest