It is easy not to notice a way that one has passed for many years. The way to Seattle University, to NW Girl Choir when Mieke was little, etc., is a way that I have been driving for over 25 years always takes me up Aloha.
In the block just past 10th Ave East, not far from St. Mark’s Cathedral, on the left, high above the street, growing out of the yard of one of the huge, mansions is a plant. I can’t remember the name of this plant. It blooms this time each year, short, thick, stubby blossoms on bare bark branches, no leaves. The color is that pink/ orange that my mother loved and which hardly even occurs in anything else. The color seems out-of-place when it shows up on clothes, etc. but there, hanging down over the side-walk, the plant it some how Holy.
The street , side-walk and walls are very concrete, with a slight curved turn to the right as it moves toward 12th Ave. East. This hanging holiness is some how a surprise….demanding attention, appreciation, even gratitude for this almost rude burst of color where nothing else grows or dwells.
It did not stop my inward focus…and sadness completely, but it stopped me enough so that I noticed and thought again. A powerful plant this one, hanging on to a concrete wall. Without moving, it loosened my hold enough to shake loose the stuckness, once again.