a watched lily finally blooms

so you know that feeling that if you just stared at a budding flower long enough, you could catch sight of the second it blooms? that was the way i was feeling about my day lilies as the stems grew taller and readier looking every day, but never seemed to bloom. i don't even really like lilies, but since i know they come in june every year, i wait for them, and i feel invested in their growth even though they've been growing in our yard for much longer than we've lived in our house and have nothing to do with my work. and although there's a certain type of charm to the idea of staring at a flower for upwards of a week, its not really in the cards for me this summer - i have to sleep and work and stuff.

so i decided to take pictures each morning at roughly the same time and from the same angles, and see if i could capture the moment that way. its interesting to see, and in a way, the story is more in the background than in the foreground... i am struck with flower/people analogies - how some bloom before others, some wilt before ever fully opening, some stand taller than the rest...

sunday


monday


tuesday


wednesday

thursday


today

i find it amazing how between sunday and wednesday, there was barely any noticable change to the bud in the foreground, and then yesterday it just sprung open. even though it looked the same for days, it was not - it was much closer to "ready" on wednesday than it was on sunday - it was just all happening on the inside - kind of like us sometimes. its like that feeling that the ground is shifting and you're moving towards something...slowly, slowly...and then one day, you just go. it's a powerful reminder to hold onto as i look out from my balcony each morning at the slope, ablaze with lilies, finally.