I didn’t make up this phrase, I might have read it in a card, or it might be a line of a poem, but it popped into my mind when I saw this lovely, bright cyclamen blooming in the wall next to my patio steps.

The seed came from this plant, which is 15 feet away. Imagine how perfectly the seed, or seeds, had to land in a bit of soil, wait for some rain, and then some sun in order to germinate. And notice that the cyclamen in the pot is all red, while ‘the wanderer’ is red with white tips – perhaps a throw back to another cultivar.

While I was marveling at the resilience of these plants and seeds, these roses,‎ which are on the corner of the street in front of the Museum, were in full bloom with volunteer poppies behind them. So I have added them to this blog as a testament to the hardiness of plants that volunteer in the world.

And this sturdy climber managed to find a foothold in the crack between the asphalt and the stone wall. This probably isn’t long for this world because it’s poison oak. It’s beautiful now and in the fall when it’s all red and orange. As much as I admire the tenacity of this plant, I don’t intend to keep it around.

And it all reminded me of an e. e. cummings line of poetry: “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”

— Jean Schulz