It is a new year, and I’ve been contemplating whether or not to keep posting photos on Wednesday. I’ve skipped a few weeks and the world keeps going. In 2026, I’ve chosen sacred simplicity as my one little word(s). What can be more simple and sacred than this pure white camellia blossom.
One of the gifts of living in the Deep South is camellias. They are in full bloom this month. People are talking about it. Was it the big freeze last year that brought on the full blooms this year? Nature knows.
If you are feeling a little lacking in the inspiration department, stop by and write a small poem.
My poem draft comes from a word card I chose from Georgia Heard’s newsletter for January, “Quiet” and uses an anaphoric word “Today.” The last line turned melancholic as I have experienced some losses this week.
Today
the downy white camellia blooms
quietly in the winter yard.
Today
the cold spills inside
touching my toes.
Today
seeds are waiting.
My heart is still.
Every note from songbirds
scratch the surface
of morning dew.
And I miss you.
Margaret Simon, draft
Reflections on the Teche 
I love the way the repetition of Today grounds the reader in the present, yet still leaves room for the missing and the loss. My jealousy of your blossoms and today’s snowflakes inspired a few lines:fluffy flakes swirlinto crabapple petals–winter fantasy
oops–somehow I always lose the line breaks. Trying again:
fluffy flakes swirl
into crabapple petals–
winter fantasy
I’m dreaming that dream, too…with or without the snowflakes!
Some days I long for snow. I figure if it’s going to be cold, we should at least see the beauty of snow. I love the image of your small poem. Thanks for writing.
You have camellias.
I have winter-blooming hellebores.
Blessings in this hard season.
We have snow
And there is ice,
More ice than we need!
All of it hard, cold and unfriendly.
A short note from Minneapolis, Mn. Thanks for your poem and flower – This gardener needed this right now.