Purple Flowers

I remember this last Spring, spending a morning in our backyard playing with the kids. This was before we had obnoxious things like school interrupting our daily doings.
I remember feeling especially inspired, feeling drawn deeper into my love affair with my life by my surroundings. The trees, the butterflies, the grass, the swingset, the dirt, the garden fence, the smell of the air, the children. Of course the children.
I wrote about it here.

A few weeks ago, I walked out front for one reason or another and was hit with that same feeling...it was still hot outside and there was more asphalt meeting my eye than greenery but there was...

This.

This is the purple bush in our front yard.
Every other Saturday when JC does yard work, we have a nearly-wordless conversation about this bush. He wants to trim it to look all nice and uniform. I want it to grow wild and beautiful.
I want it to feel free to stretch its small, adorned branches in every direction, tall enough to dance in the breeze and have the sky as its backdrop.
Not be able to fit in a box.
Isn't that what we all want?

"I am trimming that bush tomorrow" he will say the night beforehand.
"Purple flowers." I say.
"It needs to be trimmed eventually." says he.
"Purple. Flowers."

For a long time he let me have my way.
Look at her.
In her glory.

Flowers spilling over, leaves allowed to take up as much space as they want.

I don't know why, it just made me really happy.
I thought I would share.