{"id":5882,"date":"2018-07-08T16:31:00","date_gmt":"2018-07-08T20:31:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/?p=5882"},"modified":"2018-07-08T22:04:09","modified_gmt":"2018-07-09T02:04:09","slug":"day-lily-days","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/?p=5882","title":{"rendered":"Day Lily Days"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/?attachment_id=5891\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-5891\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-large wp-image-5891\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lily-2.jpg?resize=640%2C853\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"853\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lily-2.jpg?resize=768%2C1024 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lily-2.jpg?resize=225%2C300 225w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lily-2.jpg?w=1320 1320w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lily-2.jpg?w=1980 1980w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>The shelves at the garden center are almost empty. Only leggy, ragged plants with roots packed into their little containers like leftover spaghetti, remain. I wonder what&#8217;s next? Chrysanthemums and pumpkins? But wait &#8211; it&#8217;s only early July! Time for harvesting lettuce, maybe tomatoes if you were an early planter without greedy pests. At my place, there&#8217;s basil tucked behind my makeshift fence. Also arugula, thyme, oregano and cilantro. I picked up some new guinea impatiens &#8211; never my favorite but the only flower the groundhog ignored. I buy five at a dollar each. Walking out of the greenhouses past the once full space, now left only with boxwood and hydrangea shrubs, a tiny knot of sadness pinches my stomach.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/?attachment_id=5892\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-5892\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-large wp-image-5892\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-3.jpg?resize=640%2C480\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"480\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-3.jpg?resize=1024%2C768 1024w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-3.jpg?resize=300%2C225 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-3.jpg?resize=768%2C576 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-3.jpg?w=1320 1320w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-3.jpg?w=1980 1980w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>I was in high school when I first registered a sense of melancholy around time. Not because I was happy and wanted the days to slow. I recognize now, I had long felt invisible at home and this probably inspired my urgency to capture my days. I filled journals, recording events, scrawling my angst and bad poems. I drew. I played music. Art gave me a sense of being able to own time. In creating, I felt I might claim it, especially in writing. It was as if unless I wrote about something in my life it did not exist.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/?attachment_id=5893\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-5893\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-large wp-image-5893\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-1.jpg?resize=640%2C853\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"853\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-1.jpg?resize=768%2C1024 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-1.jpg?resize=225%2C300 225w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-1.jpg?w=1320 1320w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/triciatierneyblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Day-Lilies-1.jpg?w=1980 1980w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>The faded flowers in the picked over garden center triggered a flash of familiar poignancy. The sweetest seasons pass in a blink. In every perfumed inhale of lilacs, pinch of mint, nip of autumn air, I sense the finite. How many chances at such pleasure we get remains a mystery and too many I have loved long lost theirs. I want the daffodils of spring to last a little longer but appreciate the day lilies, rough and ready in a sprawling, wild summer explosion, a better reminder to seize today.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The shelves at the garden center are almost empty. Only leggy, ragged plants with roots packed into their little containers like leftover spaghetti, remain. I wonder what&#8217;s next? Chrysanthemums and pumpkins? But wait &#8211; it&#8217;s only early July! Time for harvesting lettuce, maybe tomatoes if you were an early planter without greedy pests. At my &hellip; <a href=\"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/?p=5882\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Day Lily Days<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[9],"tags":[112,12,19],"class_list":["post-5882","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-seasonal-musings","tag-creativity","tag-nature","tag-time"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pPzTS-1wS","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5882","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5882"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5882\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5898,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5882\/revisions\/5898"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5882"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5882"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/triciatierneyblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5882"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}