by DK Christi
August 6, 2010, 5:31 pm
Ghost Orchid blooms August 6, 2010
She
continues to reign over Corkscrew Swamp. My ghost orchid that bloomed
in all her majesty on my birthday in July has returned to bloom again
for the second birthday that matters, the birth of my son, my Leo. He
was on my mind today as I chose to take the walk in the swamp that
always restores my sanity in this uncertain world, not knowing my very
own gift from the universe, the ghost orchid, chose to bloom again for
me.
I claim this ghost for my very own muse. She has comforted me
through many losses since her first blooming in July of 2007. She
inspired me to memorialize her in my mystery novel by her very own
name,
Ghost Orchid. She sent me on a quest for knowledge about
this species of orchid previously unknown to me until I have my own
repertoire of knowledge, my own contacts on the internet, my own stash
of information that tells why she is wild and rare and endangered.
The day was hot and humid, the damp mist rising from the swamp and
bathing the giant ferns and alligator flags in dew. The raccoons were
quite tame, teasing me before they raced from the boardwalk leaving
their wet paw prints behind. Lavender morning glories filled the marsh
and purple hyacinths reached up to the sun. The white swamp lilies are
gone; but one lonely, red swamp hybiscus remained. Sweat droplets fell
from my hairline yet my arms were cool in the moisture, and I felt my
usual chill (well-documented in
Ghost Orchid ) as I rounded the bend toward my ghost.
I can see her now with my naked eye, but a clearer picture is seen
through the scope. She was there, watching me, watching over me,
surrounded by new buds that will open soon. She's too high, too open
to the elements, on the wrong tree and magnificent in her strength and
perseverance.
"One thing she knew about walking in the swamp; she did not cry. An
overwhelming sense of peace filled her heart to overflowing with joy
from the first step into its wonders until the last step out. Tears
were for lonely automobiles, the back of the church, the empty rooms.
Her Creator who made this swamp such a beautiful and serene place where
nature lived in harmony according to its predestined imprint had done
no less for her. In the swamp, she felt her God filling the void in
her soul; and she was at peace...The swamp never disappointed." -
Ghost Orchid, p. 12
Today started out as a day to cry; a day when a mother wants to
return to the days when she could wrap her arms around her son and make
everything okay. He'll be 39. He finds his own way in this world and
overcomes his own challenges. My ghost orchid reminds me that surely
as perfectly as God has organized the natural world's harmony, there is
a special order for each of us as well. No, one thing I know about
walking in the swamp; I do not cry. I am at peace.
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