Hundreds of hanging cornflowers

Creating with nature expands my horizons. It allows freshness, calm and tranquillity to enter my mind. I work frontline in the National Health Service, and this creativity brings me stillness, positivity, and my being to be refined. I go outside to explore the seasons and bring fragments of nature back inside. I draw parallels from the changing environment around me, and the wisdom it can unearth. I gather and arrange the flowers of the age, and twist cut string and fabric to create new displays. I learn from the seasons and am led by this routine. Whether it is Spring, Summer, Autumn or Winter, I dance in the season’s wake. I gather cherry blossoms and bind them with jute. They may need breaking, and they take on this different form with unseen roots. I hang dried flowers with bendable wire. I make garlands from them and chain them together. They fit together like they have always belonged and take up their post in the mix of it all. I collect red, golden leaves and hang them from string. They are poised for action and speak of the need to seek clarity, from the depths of my core. I dry sweet orange slices and tie sticks of cinnamon within. I take in the fragrant smells and their delicious delight. I return to the warmth and their nourishing effect. I lay down on the earth and take some rest. I emerge and am refreshed and have a spring in my step. I relish the time to return to my craft, and treasured moments are made with this passion for life. I unpack a box of cornflowers and a new song is birthed. I snip and cut the thin copper wire, and carefully tie it around the flower so bright. I observe the petals so intricate in design. I see the light bounce off and flicker and glide. The buds no longer connected to the earth, are still alive and vibrant as my hands get to work. The cornflowers tied, the lengths never ending, they curl around and end in a twirl. As they hang from the wall, ceiling, or frame, I rock and swing to the unique story they must tell. They sing of their journey from seed to full flower, and how they sway and are merry with the sun’s heat and power. They are cherished by all and grow tall and strong. Then they are gone and whisked away from it all. They tell me how their song does not die, it is in the whisper of the wind, and they are very much alive. They enjoy being displayed in all their creative shades. They encourage me to venture and make use of their life. The option of this craft is endless and inspiring. As one dance ends another can begin. New versions of this colourful cornflower collection are being moulded in time. I create cornflower stems from green hard wire, and I cut the desired length with scissors and attach them to the bud with pliers. I bunch stems together and tie them with ribbon or lace. From the depth of their essence a kaleidoscope of pattern flows, and I feel embraced. From silence and drought new life is brought forth. I see the beauty and fruit of my hard work. Crafting with the seasons teaches me much. I see that each time has a meaning and needs to be nurtured. How soothing it is to look at my cornflower creations, a hanging banner of hope, love, and light. My hands rest from this rewarding activity, I clear up, sit back and am at peace with what may come next.