JOY ALONG THE WAY: SCENIC VIEW NO. 65 IN THE MAKING

In early spring there comes a day in my life that is special. It is not a national, state, nor local holiday. It is not marked on the calendar. Not my birthday. It has no set date at all. It is somewhat like those old fairy tales that begin, "Once upon a time ..." So dreamily unfettered. It is the day I begin to picture the way I want my view from my porch swing to look this spring and summer. It began 65 years ago when there was not as yet a porch swing and the only view that would have been would be a bare, newly graded yard with some cornstalk stubbles in the far back.

That day has come this year. With doughnut and cup of coffee, I took my first breakfast outside for the first time this year. I was no more than seated when a breeze from the south brought me the indescribable fragrance of the viburnum. A mockingbird in a nearby privet bush was going through its entire repertoire, or so it seemed. A mockingbird's repertoire is endless, the way it puts its songs together in different ways. The word, entire, should be replaced by, infinite. The daffodils, standing in clumps here and there, nod their yellow trumpets as if in agreement of some topic they were discussing.

Since it is Holy Week, my thoughts are interspersed by wondering what flowers, if any, were blooming in the Kidron Valley, Mount of Olives, or Garden of Gethsemane, some of the last places where Jesus trod during that first Holy Week.

Lilies are the more often flower mentioned in the Bible. I look around to take inventory of mine. There are lots of the old-fashioned orange daylilies along the picket fence, lots of the newer multicolored ones here and there, tiger lilies and a lone regal. But are these the lilies spoken of in the Bible? One reference suggests that the lilies of the field Jesus spoke of may have been all the flowers that bloomed in the fields and valleys of Palestine tulips, hyacinths, lily, anemone, iris, gladiolus. Arabs used the word, susan, to refer to beautiful flowers in general.

Irises? Oh, yes. I have lots. Tulips? Some. But I have to replace them about every three years or they just disappear. Anemones? No. But I don't have to go very far to see some. Large carpets of them grow in the park.

How about birds? We read a lot about sparrows in the Bible. I do have them. Everywhere. Swallows are mentioned too. And I have them, for purple martins belong to the swallow family. My martin house is raised with 12 wide open doors for them to enter.

The big unchangeable are there as permanent background the red garage, the white trellises, the natural colored lattice fence and big and little garden seats, the oaks, maples and sweet gums. But there are other things I can do to change the view a little, hopefully for the better.

So, on this special day I ambled out to the garage to take inventory of my hanging flower pots. They look dingy. When my helper comes I'll have her prepare a Clorox bath for them, making use of my old No. 2 washtubs. I knew they'd be of some use again some day.

From past years' experience, I've decided the lighter colored impatients, from my viewing place, show up better in the hanging pots adorning the big natural colored garden seat. So I will put white and pale pink impatients in such pots. There are eight of them. In one I will put bright red ones, for it is near Bob's and Doris' Hummingbird Heaven. I'll help all I can in that spot.

My special day goes on with the hanging of the wren houses, staking a transplanted shrub, pulling a weed or two, securing a big sack of potting soil. Twilight will come. There will be the sleepy twittering of birds. Then sweet peace and rest with the assurance that the sun will arise again as it did that morning when Mary, walking in the dewy garden, found the empty tomb.

REJOICE!

Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime resident of Cape Girardeau.