I love the enthusiasm of children. Even strips of paper thrown in the air are great fun. My grandsons are all older now, and I miss the fun of their young years, but they have grown into wonderful young men. I am blessed.
This post is part of The Life of B blog, Simply Red Squares.
I had a great deal of fun and was filled with enthusiasm myself as I participated in this wonderful square challenge. Thank you so much Becky for hosting.
It’s not too often my husband admires a garden plant enough that it will prompt him to ask me to plant more next year. This gorgeous Red cardinal flower is a type of lobelia. I purchased it at a nursery this Spring, and it must love the location near the milkweed because it has shot up like an arrow. From a distance, when the sun lights up the red, it glows like a torch.
My Red Cardinal flower is part of Life of B‘s Simply Red Square challenge. Thanks to Becky for hosting.
The photo below, while not square, gives a different look at the plant. You can see little fronds of new flowers shooting out of the top. The four foot plus height is perfect for drawing in hummingbirds.
It seems I find most of my reds on the boardwalks of New Jersey. I only seem to see bicycles built for two at the seashore. This boardwalk photo was taken in Ocean City, NJ.
Thank you to Becky of Life of B for hosting the Simply Red Square Challenge for July.
Gardening can be very rewarding at times, but it can also feel like you’re just slogging through an endless onslaught of weeds. In the high heat we’ve been having in New Jersey, even weeding in the early morning has been oppressively hot. Recently, I was near the end of my task and about to move my knee pad further along the border when, out of the blue, I spied a colorful volunteer coleus growing in the grass outside of the garden bed. Oh my goodness! Joy immediately flooded me. I once had hundreds of coleus seeds, but somehow, over the years, I now have only one specimen left from all the many different colors I once grew. Even sadder, I have none of the seeds I saved so faithfully for over a decade.
I felt like God had shown me the small coleus before I squashed it beyond repair with a knee pad. In fact, I was sure he caused that volunteer to grow for me. Finding it will allow me to grow it over the next year or two to a point where it might produce seeds. All the colors of my previous coleus plants might be in the DNA of this small plant, and I might get many of my old varieties back.
The Joy was so great in me over the gift God gave me that I began to sing. I Think He Loves Me, I Think He Loves Me, I Think He Loves Me, to the tune of the old Partridge Family song, I Think I Love You. That joyful singing has lodged within me since I found the coleus, and I will find myself singing the phrase again. I think he loves me, and that’s a good thing because, more than I think, I know God loves me. My personal burning bush could be the burning reds, pinks, and greens of the small coleus plant.
As you can see from the photo, I wasn’t taking any chances, and I transplanted it into a terracotta pot where it will be nurtured through the winter. I hope to propagate it into a whole new series of coleus seeds. This rather long explanation is part of Becky’s Life of B, Simply Red challenge.
Block Island, Rhode Island
You could lose yourself in the fragrance and softness of the petals. I’ve grown them for years. They grow high enough to stand and bury your nose in the beautiful bloom. They are definitely one of the joys of summertime.
Thank you to Becky for hosting the Simply Red Challenge.
Becky, writing from the Life of B WordPress blog, has named July 2025’s Square Photo Challenge “Simply Red.” I plan to participate every day throughout the month and will post a square photo, as per the challenge’s requirements, along with a brief paragraph on any memories or thoughts the photo may evoke in me.
Today’s photo seems a perfect way to start July. I often left my bicycle lying on the ground as a child. The bike would be abandoned as I played with friends or explored something interesting.
Today’s bicycle was photographed in a park called Betty Park in Pitman, New Jersey. When I was seven, I played on the playground there for the first time. Many pieces of playground equipment have since been removed over the six decades since I first played at the park, deemed too dangerous for today’s children. The Witch’s Hat was both scary and thrilling, and children did at times get banged up arms and legs on the metal bars. I would love to find one, though, and have just one more spinning ride.
