Waltz of the Flowers
the woodland call; come to the Waltz of the Flowers.
Last weekend I took
my grandkids to see The Nutcracker Ballet at a local community
theater. It is, of course, a classic, performed mostly at
Christmas. I have seen it many times before, in fact, when I
was child I was a dancing flower in a local performance.
little flower on the hill, every little yellow daffodil,
hurries to the Waltz of the Flowers.
Did you know there
were words to the music? I can never quite remember the lyrics
and get them all mixed up. There are numerous versions. The
one I was taught, was the one by the Fred Waring, a popular
television band leader in former times.
Here by the garden wall, roses will waltz with
I'm not sure what kind of flower I was supposed to be, a
morning glory, I guess. My costume was blue and green. I hated
it. The green was supposed represent the stem. My tutu was
blue. I wanted to be a pink flower, like a rose. Actually, I
wanted to be a white snowflake like my little friend Johnnie
who was in the Dance of the Snowflakes. But here I was an ugly
blue wall flower.
Violets and morning glories fair, Mignonettes and
orchids will be there.
I did not, of course, actually know how to dance. I
merely whirled, swirled, and pranced with the other kids in
some sort of choreography worked out by adults who supposedly
were wise in the ways of dance. We didn't know this and
thought we were actually dancing, in spite of the ugly
All the world of flowers joins in this wonderful
I'm surprised that I like flowers, and didn't grow up
warped from the ballet version. Nowadays, I plant flowers, and
some of them succeed and some don't. I seldom plant annuals
any more as the perennials have taken over the flower beds. It
is probably just as well as digging in dirt does not appeal to
me any more than a morning glory costume.
I once had climbing roses all around my back yard. Roses
are a lot of work. You have to fertilize, spray, trim and
mulch. Even then, they will die back in winter and go wild on
you, So the roses of the world may be more beautiful, but they
are no better in the end than the morning glories.
I decided that morning glories might be easier to grow
than roses. They are. The first year the blue morning glories
were beautiful and greeted me at the back door each day in
glorious bloom. The next year wild ones sprang from the seed
and I fought morning glory vines in the garden for years
I now have several other aggressive flowers that remind
me of the wild nature of flowers. Black-eyed Susan's are
bright, yellow flowers from the daisy family. They would
happily take over my entire backyard. However, they have to
fight for it with the pink primrose, another pretty, but
highly invasive flower that has jumped the garden wall and
gone wild. So, my flowers are not exactly waltzing these days.
It is more like the catfight of flowers.
This morning I woke
up and came in the kitchen to find it filled with large
poinsettias. I rubbed my eyes. It seems my son went to the
hardware store and ran into a special on poinsettia plants.
They were so cheap he could not resist buying a half-dozen. I
have placed them all over the house. So far, they are well
behaved and have remained in the foil-wrapped pots where they
belong. I hope they can be trusted.
No wonder I am
having flashbacks and am lost in the world of the wonderful
Waltz of the Flowers.