The Common Bush

At first glance it appeared to be only a common bush. It seemed to be fairly nondescript. Not tall enough to be a tree. Not small enough to be a potted plant. Simply a bush with some sparse leafage in late May. If it had any further claim, it was in its location. It grew in the Serenity Gardens of the Master Gardeners of Kennewick. That is a 2 acre project with 24 distinct gardens. Over 6000 volunteer hours are given yearly to maintaining this project. Why a master gardener would place this common bush in the Serenity Garden was beyond me.

For the past few months, while recovering from foot reconstruction surgery that prevents me from walking, I have resorted to using an electric scooter around the house. On my best days, I take a ride to the Master Gardens some 10 blocks away on my electric scooter. And the past few months has been a delight to watch the garden bloom and flourish and grow. The Rose Garden has exploded in an endless spectrum of colors to the delight of any artist with a pallet of rich pigment. While exploring every corner of this garden, something new is always found with every trip. 

I discovered that pine needles do not grow individually. But rather in clumps of two or three which helped to define their proper name. And the flower of the Dogwood is not really a flower at all but rather specialized leaves with the true flower being very miniature and small. And to my delight and enjoyment, I watch hollyhocks, lilies, and daisies and black-eyed Susan’s and myriads of flowers without names rise up and bloom  with every trip to the gardens. But what of this common bush? What was its’ claim to fame?? And why in the world would a gardener place such a common bush in the Serenity Garden?

There were six of these common bushes in the garden. They were surrounded by a hedge of boxwood. The white petunias around the edge made up for the lack of blossom on this bush and the overwhelming sea of green. I enjoy the simplicity but I quickly move on to other parts of the garden. 

As I visited the garden three and four times a week, Spring subsided and Summer surged forward giving each plant an opportunity to celebrate the day. And as early as possible in the morning I would arrive to witness the gardens constant unfolding much like the tides of the ocean.

It was now mid-July and triple digit heat was upon us. I drove down as early as possible before the temperatures pushed us all inside. It was a great time to see the volunteer gardeners busy at work maintaining the garden. 

And now for the surprise! As I came around the corner to enter the gardens I was stopped dead in my tracks by the common bush covered white with giant flowers. The flower was bigger than an open hand with a purity of whiteness that put billowy cumulus clouds of Summer to shame. And at the heart of the flower was a brilliant red crown. How had this happen between yesterday and today? Where did this flower come from? 

Closer examination showed a green bud the same color as the leaves. The growing bud of the flower was there all the time, simply overlooked by an unobservant admirer like myself. I then checked the other "common bushes" to find an array of light pink and light blue flowers exploding like a heavy laden Christmas tree. I loved what I was seeing but I had no idea what I was seeing.

Sheepishly but admiringly I tracked down a volunteer and ask what was going on in the Serenity Garden. I was then given a name, “the Rose of Sharon”. I knew the bush was not a rose bush. And I had never before heard of this flower. Now that we were properly introduced to one another, it was time to go home and Google the Rose of Sharon. It is originally from India. It is mentioned in the 1500s in England. And it is the national flower of Korea. I also learned that it is a hibiscus plant. The hibiscus flower makes a wonderful iced tea. And in Hebrew tradition the plant and its oil has been used for centuries.

The Rose of Sharon appears to be a late bloomer. It takes on leaves very slowly in the Spring and waits for the heat of the Summer to make its appearance. Indeed, one has to be patient and willing to bide their time to see the glorious Rose of Sharon. As I worked my way home, I then begin to notice other yards with a not-so-common bush bursting out with the most brilliant flower I had ever seen. Silently and quietly people in-the-know planted them and then patiently waited for the end result.

It reminded me of a short poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning who spoke of the common bush.

Earths ‘ crammed with nature

And every common bush afire with God

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes

And the rest sit around and eat blackberries.

Here, Elizabeth draws a parallel between the burning bush that Moses encountered high on top of the mountain while in the presence of God. And in reverence to the sacred spot he found himself and in the presence of God, he removed his sandals. In all the common bushes with which we are surrounded, there lies a spark of the divine. It is for us to see the divine and not be distracted.

For myself, I probably will not pass by another Rose of Sharon bush, bloom or no bloom, and not give it the respect it deserves. But I think there awaits a greater lesson. 

Hopefully, I am ready for the next "common bush" I pass but what about the next “common man” I meet? 

From this bush’s origins in India, maybe they already have learned what I am learning. The greeting there is, Namaste – which I understand to mean “the divine in me sees the divine in you”.  

Thank you dear Rose of Sharon for teaching me a not so common view that I have overlooked too many days in row without acknowledging its real value. You may be common but you are oh so beautiful. And so is the gardener that planted you!