Like millions of people around the world I mourned for this lovely, young princess who oozed love and compassion for others.
Draped in my recliner, I was glued to CNN and watched hour after hour of devastating coverage.
"You didn't even know the woman," my husband said.
You'd never know that by the way I spouted facts and details about her life. I felt like she was my personal friend.
Hubby, too, got sucked into the coverage and when our bewildered children asked, "What's for dinner?" Daddy tore his eyes from the television and said,
"Who cares? Diana's dead!"
After Diana's funeral which I attended via CNN, I sensed my children were upset by the adults' upset.
I decided we all needed some tranquility, so I took them to Dahlia Hill
I remember when I first saw Dahlia Hill. I had just covered a disturbing trial in Midland, Michigan for my job as a reporter. A few blocks from the courthouse my photographer and I ran into a hill spattered with colorful flowers beyond my comprehension.
"Pull over!" I shouted.
I ended up doing a feature story about Bill Fisher and Charles Breed, retired friends who created a special spot of beauty in their town.
They planted 3,000 tubers which erupted into 500-thousand blossoms in every size, shape and color you can imagine.
And, some only nature can imagine.
The blooms can grow to the size of a dinner plate.
or the size of my niece Andrea's lovely face.
The flowers bloom in late August and last until the first frost.
That's when Bill and Charles dig up ALL the tubers which are thick roots like potatoes.
The tubers are carefully divided and catalogued by color and size. Every May, the friends plan and plant a different layout of color and spectacle.
Surrounded by the astonishing flowers we felt healed, happy & hopeful again.
The world IS a good place.
Thanks to everyone who creates patches of beauty
and, renews us...