My Balcony Is Empty

   

My balcony is empty except for a few items I brought from the house.  I have walked around the apartment complex looking at other people’s balconies, seeing how they decorated or did not decorate.  Some of the balconies are totally bare, some have a couple of chairs and maybe a table, a couple of plants or the balcony is filled to the brim with plants and/or stuff.  I am drawn to the ones that have a variety of different sized pots, plants and flowers.  My husband calls them jungles, I call them sanctuaries.  I enjoy flowers.  I enjoy color.  I enjoy variety.  I wonder to myself why I need to put anything more on my balcony.  Is it for my enjoyment or for others to see, without me having to shout out, “I am here, look at me!”, instead it is, “Look at my balcony, I am here!”  Do those who have nothing on their balcony wish to be anonymous? Or do they just not derive joy from the same things?  Do they prefer to spend their money on other things or experiences rather than chairs, flowers……  I also wonder where my love of flowers comes from.  My dad had a vegetable garden when I was growing up, which I abhorred working in because I had better things to do like play than work in his garden for stuff I did not like to eat in the first place such as acorn squash, rhubarb and summer squash, at least to the extent that we ate them.  He grew so much one summer that we put a box out on the sidewalk full of vegetables with a free sign.  No one took them.  As I take my morning walks, I look at the different front yards and enjoy the ones with plentiful flowers.  The houses that have none I make immediate judgements that they must be rental houses.  Funny how the mind works.  Or at least mine.  I have no doubt that I will have a full balcony by mid-summer, but I believe I will take my time, visiting different nurseries, only taking what truly takes my breath away.  And maybe that is the process,  using the mantra, “Does this take my breath away?”, in all things I choose to bring forth into my life.