The flower attandence book 2/ Wansuh Park
It bloomed two weeks later than last year, but since it didn't bloom even if I waited, I thought it was a flower that wouldn't bloom unless it snowed. As I was coming back from outside, I saw something bright yellow shining on the ground. For a moment, I thought the buttons on my school uniform had fallen off.
Until the 1960s, when a boy reached middle school, he had his head shaved and wore a navy blue school uniform with gold buttons. It was definitely the freshmen who were playing with their clothes and bodies separately, as if they had already earned the ugly school uniforms because their mothers had bought them plenty of clothes with the intention of wearing them for at least three years without leaving their children alone. It was a time of poverty, but the golden buttons shined so brilliantly that it seemed strange. Wouldn't my dream of seeing my son, who first became a middle school student, have been just as brilliant?
At a time when the school rules were so strict that you could get caught at the school gate if you didn't fasten even one of the hawks around your neck, I used to re-sew the buttons of my son's new school uniform, which had poor stitching, starting from the beginning, out of fear that my son would get scolded for dropping a button because he was very playful.
Even if it is not under the same stress as it was in the past, Bokjaweed clings to the ground and blooms first, so much so that it looks like a gold button that has fallen to the ground. As the yellow flower closes at night and opens up to the size of a button during the day, stems and leaves appear. Even so, the leaves and stems are tiny, so if you don't look at it with affection, it's a flower that can easily be stepped on. After welcoming the amur adonis weed, I looked at the place where the small spring flowers were and saw that hepatica was blooming in a faint pink color. I don't know why those little things keep their order so well.
As those small and insignificant things make their way from the ground to the ground, green things are sprouting up in all directions. The small ones sprout up as if they had fallen from above, but the larger leaves show signs of quite a struggle. The leaves of Sangsacho plant rise up with slight cracks in the thick, hard ground.
The leaves of Sanskaria are so plump and healthy. Still, the only thing left is grass, so they split the hard ground like that. The road in front of my house is a solid road that has just been newly paved. During the winter of last year, severe cracks appeared in the floor due to the weight of heavy equipment, such as excavators and cranes, traveling to and from a neighboring construction site. Every time I see cracks caused by the tremendous force pressing down from above, I As I became fed up with the destructive power of construction, I lost all interest in living. It is probably nothing other than lethargy and fear of the ruthless power of machines that destroy and build in an instant.
That pessimism about life disappeared as if it was washed away when I saw the vibrant green rising from underneath, creating a crack in the ground, and I felt new strength rising. Such power would not be the power of fighting spirit or enemy, but the original vitality of life that wants to feel and share the joy of being alive. If the first spring color that caught my eye in our yard this spring was sedum, the first taste of spring that hit my tongue was sedum. Sedum spreads profusely anywhere, and if left alone, there will be no grass or anything left.
Flowers bloom, but if they spread throughout the yard, my favorite pine flowers will not spread properly, so I work hard to remove them when they are green and mix them with seasoning before eating them. It has no taste other than a light and refreshing taste, but people eat it because it is good for their health. There is no basis for saying that it is good for the body. It may be because I heard a few years ago that someone I like, who was fighting cancer, was eating sedum a lot because it was good for cancer. He couldn't beat cancer.
Nevertheless, I feel sad about eating foods that are said to be good for cancer. The other day, someone I know asked me what flowers bloom in my yard. I boasted and said that there were over a hundred kinds of flowers. That's my habit of saying that to someone. But it's not a lie. The listener might think of a field of flowers the size of a hundred orchids, but they do not bloom all at once, but one after the other. And this includes everything from the magnolia blooming in full bloom to the inconspicuous sedum flower. But how can I count all the things? Because they come one after another and I wait.