Delphiniums

She stepped into the crisp fall night. It was dark, far past midnight, but she couldn't sleep. Her lover had left months ago, but the pain was still as fresh as a new cut.

Eglantine rose, symbolizing a wound unhealed.

The weather was still warm enough to keep hard frost at bay, but not for long. The days were cool, and the nights cold. The trees had dropped their leaves. The more timid plants had already curled deep into themselves, and let pale browns wither and dry their leaves and buds.

Oak leaves of strength.


Her feet moved of their own accord, carrying her across cool, pebbly dirt and into the large garden behind the house. The last of the summer vegetation brushed her fingers, slowly numbing them. A dainty evergreen slipped along her thumb, and she paused. She twisted a stem of it between her fingers, broke it, and held it tight.

Rosemary for remembrance, my love.

A voyage across the world, to the far East, was the reason for separation. Educational purposes, supposedly. Love of variety, truly.

China asters for fidelity and the love of variety.

A perfect representation.

She carefully trod through the shriveled roses. They shimmered with a dusting of the thinnest frost. During the summer, they had grown rampant along the trellises. She could look out her window and see a vibrant palette of roses. They all looked the same in the moonlight now, seeming as dark as sorrows or bright as silver.

Black roses for farewell, crimson for mourning. White roses for innocence, yellow for friendship and apology.

Her innocent lover never knew the pain departing caused. Didn't need to know. She kept it to herself, since, after all, there would be a reunion.

Fir, meaning time. Almond, promise. Heliotrope, devotion. Primrose, eternal love.


The lover would be back. Returned to her side in less than a year. Full of new sights, smells, experiences. Spices, silks, and the great souks of the Eastern markets.

She turned down the next row of the garden. The herbs by her hand were the sturdiest of all the plants, often lasting long into the winter.

Fennel for strength.

Her lover was the strongest person she'd ever met. In fact, that was part of the reason for her love. Not physically, but spiritually, mentally, morally. Standing up to what was wrong, heart upon sleeve, and colors flying.

Holly for defense, orange lilies for passion, and lotus for eloquence.

She began to hurry past the last of the plants, racing her memories.

Apple blossoms of perseverance. Pink carnations for friendship. Delphiniums, able to transcend space and time. Fidelite pink carnations. Mallow, forget-me-not, lime blossoms. Freesia, marigold, rue.

Periwinkle for memories. Snapdragon for strength. Yarrow for heartache.

She stepped through the door, slamming it behind her. Flowers pelted the wood, herbs scented the air.

Fidelity, love, faithfulness, hope, regret, desire, change.

"We will be together again." The house was silent around her as she climbed the stairs to her room. The bed sat in the corner, its covers strewn wildly. She lay down, pulled the blankets high, and held her pillow tight in her arms. "Together."

Just outside the back door, a sprig of rosemary lay in the dirt. It was slowly turning silver. The frost crept across its thin needles, gleaming in the clear night.

Remember.