Dru Philippou
Step by Step
Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds you plant. —Robert Louis Stevenson
As spring draws near, I toss thousands of wildflower seeds over an acre of sandy, high desert to create a meadow, but the rains don’t come readily this year. Only about one in ten germinates. Yet bit by bit, volunteers appear. Rosettes of ground-hugging, red-stemmed filaree. Spindly plants tipping subtle perfumes deep into summer. The soft orange of globe mallow. Ants, craving nectar, climb the dizzying heights of sunflowers. Grateful for each growth, I begin to trust in things unfolding.
an old gate bound by a trailing vine— silvery pods unfurl their mystery as I pass through I leave an armful of flowers at my neighbor’s door— in the warm rain a single bud opens
About the Author
Dru Philippou was born on the island of Cyprus, raised in London, and currently lives in northern New Mexico, where hiking in the high desert wilderness around her home nourishes both her spirit and her writing.