We have a tall plant in front of our new house. Over the last month it’s grown six huge buds. My mom told me it was probably a lily. I was really excited to see what would burst out–until a few days ago, four of the buds got eaten! They were chomped clean off. I have to assume it was deer.
There were still two buds left. I took a shaker full of chili powder and covered them, hoping it would be enough to keep the deer away. It worked–sort of. Yesterday both buds were bulging and you could see through the green covering that a big white flower was about to bloom. I came home excited–and there was the flower, half-open, lying on the ground. Something had bitten it off, and spit it out.
There is one more lily left. I put a plastic bag loosely over it this morning. I hope it is a flower when I come home. One shot left at a flower. Let’s make good on it.
I was an only child, to my mom who had me late. And now I’m finally pregnant, and I’m in my mid-30s like my mom was. I feel like I was my mom’s one little flower, and now I have my one little flower inside me, and it’s a big scary world, and so much can go wrong, and that frightens me.
It frightens me more because my mom was recently diagnosed with cancer, and after surgery it turned out that the cancer was at a more advanced stage than we’d thought. And the chemo and the radiation have been hard.
So for the last few months I’ve felt like I’ve just been falling, and nothing’s been working right.
Please universe, keep my flowers safe.
Here’s a lily on another plant that bloomed before the deer could get at it.