Worth the Wait

Rocky Mountain Columbine is normally true blue.
My alkaline soil turns the flowers a purplish-blue.

They say patience is a virtue. I really wouldn’t know. My mind is often spinning in a dozen different directions. Who's got the time to worry about that?

Some folks might consider this pretty Columbine a 'weed,'
since she prefers to grow in the crack in my sidewalk.

I've never really minded all my nervous energy. It inspires all kinds of I’m gonna do this! I’m gonna do that! exciting ideas. 

Thanks to this nervous energy, I actually follow through. 

This wild Columbine planted herself in my gardens.

 “You have the patience of a flea.” So sayeth my gone but not forgotten supervisor during my last corporate performance review.

In this world, there are doers and talkers. He dearly loved to talk but he never really got around to doing much of anything.

This Poppy is another volunteer. She just showed up, one day, and said: I like it here!

I quit after my supervisor insulted me by calling me a flea. Hummingbirds are 'impatient.' Couldn't you have used that as an example?

I quit. Started my own company. Stole his biggest account. But… not…. intentionally. 

Had barely figured what to call this company I decided to start, when my old boss’s biggest client called me asking if I was in business. 

Um. Yes. I proudly claimed. Lied. Wondering how quickly I could purchase a desk, and a new laptop and possibly hire someone to upgrade the wireless. 

Great, she says. We have so many projects and none of them are getting done fast enough. We’d like to hire you to make this happen. 

This Snowball shrub was an impulse purchase. 
We had 38 feel of snow last winter, nobody needs to see any more white.

Here’s the irrefutable truth about impatient people. We get shit done. 

Like this morning. When I stepped outside at dawn and played in the gardens for six blissful hours. Couldn't believe I was out there that long. The time just flew by. 

And yes. I freely admit. I've experienced many exasperated, impatient, moments when I stood in front of my flowers and irrationally screamed: Grow dammit! 

Brunnera is a shade lover. Tiny blossoms about 1/4 inch diameter.

But now that the gardens are fully grown, I step back, calm down, and think to myself: The waiting was the only hard part. 

Sort of looks like a Brunnera (upper photo) doesn't it?
It's actually a wildflower that enjoys full sun in my backyard. Not sure the name.

Thinking about patience and people because I said my final goodbye, last Tuesday, to my last freelance client. 

I resigned all my freelance accounts last year. Time to retire. These people move very slowly. Six months later, we had a lovely goodbye; he was always my favorite - I worked with him for 20 years. And I think that’s because I always believed at some point he might change. Even though it's a well-documented fact that people never change.

Wild Iris

During our last conversation he said: “We will be [insert title of project that will never happen here] and it’s too bad you can’t be part of that.” 

But… but… I was part of that! At least I tried to be! When I recommended that you do that. Three years ago.

Impatient people get a bad rap. [I'm mostly just saying that because I am one.] 

Anxious to do whatever it is that needs doing… we often make other people feel lazy. And sometimes crazy. Because we keep asking: Have you done that yet?? What are you waiting for??

I can tell you what I've been waiting for. For a very long time. A simple summer day. And it's finally here. 

Summer arrives very slowly - at this elevation, in the mountains. But it is always worth the wait.