“It is the time you have spent on your rose that makes her so important.” –Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince
The view from my window is filtered through a sheer white floral burnout curtain which echoes the clumps of melting snow on the new tree buds. It’s said that we don’t have much of a spring in the Rockies- just winter and summer, continually duking it out. We’re not even supposed to plant until after Mother’s Day, for fear of frost. It makes me homesick for the sunny blue skies and abundant flowers of southern California, so I asked my boss to send me the view from her window instead.
Dea is the hardest worker I know, continually handling both the creative and technical aspects of the business. I’m constantly telling her that she needs to fashion herself a Harry Potter-style “time-turner” charm so she’ll have a few more hours in the day. She may have succeeded, if the lushly-planted flower garden she’s created outside her office is anything to go by.
At first glance, she doesn’t seem the type to get her hands in the dirt, with her slender pale fingers and the spill of long blonde curls that echoes the tumble of morning glories from an elegant stone pot. The big green eyes and syrupy Southern drawl make you think of Scarlett O’Hara sipping a mint julep- unless you’ve read the book and remember that Scarlett worked in the fields to save Tara. Her patio is covered in artfully arranged planters that are overflowing with lobelia, geraniums and impatiens. In acknowledgement of her labors, bees and butterflies are frequent visitors to this cheerful and relaxing retreat. It’s easy to see where she gets the inspiration for her romantic, feminine creations- even if I can’t figure out where she finds the time.